


the difference between sinners and saints

by Thatbookishgirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Bobby Lives, Boys Kissing, Dean Loves Pie, Demons, Dirty Dancing, Domestic Fluff, Dream Sharing, Dreams, Established Gabriel/Sam Winchester, F/M, Grinding, Hand Jobs, Jealous Dean, Kevin Lives, Lapdance, M/M, Masturbation, Mild Gore, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possessive Dean, Slow Burn, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-03 09:38:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8707297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thatbookishgirl/pseuds/Thatbookishgirl
Summary: The hunters have been laying low in the bunker; working on smaller cases while they deal with unravel a lot of the chaos left behind with the fall of heaven and the angels. One night Dean and Kevin happen upon an unusual girl who apparently has a history with their angels. Suddenly things become slightly more complicated for the team. Soon they have to traipse across the country tracking more than monsters.
Sorry, vague summary is vague, and the rating will bump up to explicit soon enough.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first tie writing in this fandom, just been a reader for a long time. let me know how it goes :)

                “Come on, Kevin. You’re too tightly wound to not just try this,” Dean goaded.

                “I don’t see why you needed to drag me out to a strip club, of all places,” Kevin whined.

                “Because it is like pulling teeth to get you out of the bunker at all. You never do anything that isn’t reading or sleeping. You need to loosen up, hence, the girly bar,” Dean was pulling Kevin along as they paid the bouncer and moved to find a table near the stage.

                “This feels sleazy and gross,” Kevin complained as he sat down in the chair. The smoke machine in the corner of the room gave the general atmosphere of the bar a smokey slant and the lights were not nearly as bright when blocked out by the fog filtering through. The music was lower than Dean was used to but it was almost a relief. He would still tug his sleeve down to cover the mark on his arm, but in the dimly lit and distracting venue he didn’t bother with it so much. The main stage had a red-headed girl slowly dancing and gyrating to a fast-paced song. Dean watched but was not overly invested in the girl, she was certainly pretty but she couldn’t hold his attention.

                “What can I get you boys?” a peppy, brunette waitress in a black and gold bustier asked as she approached the pair.

                “Whatever dark beer you have on tap,” Dean smiled.

                “Umm, ginger ale,” Kevin tensed.

                “Alrighty, I’ll be right back with that beer. And your drink is on the house, sugar,” the girl winked at Kevin.

                “Thanks, I guess,” he muttered into his lap and diverted his eyes further to the floor.

                “Dude, you need to chill out. Just enjoy the show and try to think about anything other than the word of god and defeating the next horrible, unknown evil,” Dean coaxed and leaned back in his chair. The song was wrapping up, the heavy bass and fast beat that he was used to at strip clubs. When the song ended and there was a minute lull before the next begin. However, Dean was surprised as it started. Instead of the sort of song he had come to expect he heard a soft and slow piano. The lights shifted from a deep red to a white and light blue. A girl with long, shockingly blonde, wavy hair, nearly silver, stalked onto the stage. She wore no shoes, unlike the tall heals others came out in. Her outfit was a tight, white dress that looked like ribbons wrapped around her small frame. She swept her leg across the pole in the middle of the stage and swiveled her hips slowly as the song played on.

 

 _It was the coldest night of the year,_  
Snow-covered street lamps and Belvedere,  
The moon was just a sliver,  
The light was fading,  
The war was on its way,  
And we were waiting,  
  
You asked me how long I'd stay by your side,  
So I answered with only just one reply…

 

                “ZZ Ward?” Dean wondered out loud as he became entranced by the dancer on stage. He didn’t even notice when the drink was placed next to him on the table. The waitress giggled and put her hand on Dean’s shoulder.

                “That’s Stevie. She the favorite dancer here. Definitely unusual and has specific musical tastes when she dances. Funny thing, she pretty much never gets nude. The men just sort of lose it when she dances. Plus, she’s got this accent. Sort of british but something else too. Drives some people wild,” the waitress informed.

                “Really? A stripper that doesn’t strip?” Kevin perplexed.

                “She might take this little dress off but them bra and panties are stayin’ put. She usually picks 2 men per dance that she will give a lap dance to, but that’s all. She’s constantly getting requests though, not that I’ve ever seen her grant one,” she hummed, “She’s just a beautiful dancer. Think she might be trained in ballet or somethin’ with the way she moves and how small she is.”

                “Huh. Weird,” Kevin mused and looked over to see Dean completely transfixed on Stevie.

 

 _Till the casket drops,_  
Till my dying day,  
Till my heartbeat stops,  
Till my legs just break,  
Whoa, oh, whoa,  
whoa, whoa, oh,  
Whoa, whoa, oh,  
Till the casket drops…

 

                Stevie spun around the pole and slowly began to peel away the layers of her dress. One strip fell away and she flung it to the side of the stage. Using her legs and hips she kept her body against the pole and rolled her body. Her hips swayed and she swung upside down. Her hair cascaded down like a waterfall with what appeared to be glitter falling to the floor. She pursed her lips, which were painted a lush, matte, pink, and scanned the crowd of men as they watched her move. Her eyes locked on Dean and she undulated down the pole to the floor. Her eyes were fierce and sharp, but the warm honey color of her irises softened her face. Sitting back on her heels, she unraveled the last layer of her dress and she was now clad in nothing more than a simple white, lacy bra with matching underwear. She prowled to the edge and slowly rose to her feet before delicately stepping down the stairs the led from the stage to the seating area. She practically glided to Dean. Once she was directly in front of him she cocked her head to the side and stared into his eyes. She brushed his hands off his legs and pushes them to the arm rest. She climbed into his lap, her thighs on either side of his. She rolled her hips against his and leaned forward so her breasts were pressed to his chest. Her hair fell across his shoulders as she moved closer, her lips lightly grazing over Dean’s jaw. She blew lightly and he shuddered. Their eyes locked after that and she splayed her hands across his rib cage and continued to move her body slowly to the music, practically writhing in his lap. Dean was frozen and felt fuzzy. Kevin was watching them and looked extremely uncomfortable. As the song ended she gazed at him and smirked before rising up to her feet.

                “Goodbye, Mr. Winchester,” she whispered and disappeared behind the stage.

                “What?” Kevin gaped, “She knew your name. Did you know her?

                “I – no. I would’ve remembered someone like her…” Dean was mumbling and seemed to struggle to find words.

                “Did you have too much to drink?” Kevin lifted Dean’s beer and realized it hadn’t been touched, but Dean appeared to be half out of it.

                “Maybe we should leave…” Kevin touched Dean’s arm and the man flinched.

                “Yea. Sorry, Kev. Got a little weird there for a minute. I’m back,” he popped his shoulder and picked up his beer.

                “You sure?” Kevin tested.

                “Yep. She was just…really good. Guess I got distracted,” Dean shrugged and scanned the bar, “Want me to buy you a lap dance from the girl in the purple over there?” He pointed to the end of the raised bar area where a girl in a purple corset and thigh high boots.

                “No. I don’t want a lap dance from anyone,” Kevin bristled.

                “Aw, come on. Live a little,” Dean chuckled.

                “I’m good,” he sipped on his drink and tried not to stare at everyone around. Dean was halfway through his beer when his phone rang.

                “Hey, Sammy,” Dean spoke into his phone.

                “Where is Kevin and where are you?” Sam demanded.

                “Some strip joint downtown. Why? Mad we didn’t invite you? I didn’t think your angel boyfriend would approve. Or maybe he would. Hard to get a read on him sometimes,” Dean sighed.

                “Not the point, Dean. You guys should come back. Cas figured out where we can track that ghost we’ve been looking for. Not that you were here to help,” Sam grunted.

                “Dude, stop bitching. Kev here needed a break and I was happy to oblige,” Dean defended himself.

                “I highly doubt he wanted to be taken to a strip club,” Sam pressed.

                “Maybe not. But he still needed to get out of the bunker for just a little while,” Dean continued.

                “Fine. Whatever. Just head back soon,” Sam breathed out.

                “Will do, baby bro. I’ll even be extra charitable and pick up dinner on the way back. Burgers all around,” Dean grinned.

                “Ugh,” Sam hung up and Dean finished off his beer.

                “Let’s go, man. Our bunker pals are getting antsy. And Cas found out how to track that ghost we’ve been looking for,” Dean explained as he stood and pulled his jacket back on. Kevin awkwardly rose to follow Dean. The older man turned to survey the bar once more and finally found Stevie again. She was perched on a stool by the bartender slowly pulling her hair into a braid, her back arched as she craned her neck to looked back towards Dean. She almost looked like she was glowing and Dean wanted to go to her like she was a beacon in the night. She caught his eyes and they stared at each other again and Dean’s feet felt heavier. Kevin pushed him forward, pulling his attention away again, so he kept walking towards the exit as Stevie toyed with her hair while men watched on.

 

 

                “Finally,” Sam exacerbated when Dean and Kevin returned with food.

                “Unbunch your panties, Sammy,” he placed the food in the kitchen where Castiel was pensively looking through the paperwork Kevin and Sam had complied on the ghost. They were alerted to this case only recently. Men were being found dead in the woods, their hearts torn from their chests and the familiar smell of sulfur lingered on their bodies. They thought it was demonic activity at first but found nothing else to support that beyond the sulfur. Then they researched the area while Sam checked with the families of the deceased. Turns out, a lot of the men had a habit of cheating on their wives while the woods in that area were reportedly haunted by a woman in white, or so the increasingly tired legend goes.

                “The ghost is likely the vengeful type we’ve encountered before,” Sam started, “These men all have one thing in common, they either have cheated on their partners or were suspected of doing so. If she was slighted that way before her death or in a way that was directly related to her death, then it would explain a lot of this. We need to figure out who she was and where she was buried so we can pull a salt-and-burn. It’s standard, but I have no idea where to begin to figure out who this woman was.”

                “And we can presume that she might have never been found. If she died in the woods, then her bones might be there too. Not sure where to start looking,” Castiel stated.

                “How do we protect these random philanderers until then?” Dean started eating his burger.

                “That will be more difficult. Especially since we do not know where she is luring them from or how we can only patrol those woods and hope to catch her in the act,” Castiel suggested.

                “Normally, I like your plans, but just waltzing around a forest all night hoping to catch someone potentially trying to cheat on their wife with a ghost doesn’t seem like the best route,” Dean chirped.

                “Maybe we could cast a spell to locate her bones?” Kevin began.

                “I can. There are old incantations that angels have used in the past when locating the bones of important men,” Castiel explained.

                “Would it work here?” Dean asked.

                “It could. I wouldn’t need much. Just some time. We know the men usually die around midnight and it is already a bit late tonight so we would need to wait until tomorrow. Hopefully she does not find another mark this evening,” Castiel nodded.

                “What if it’s not a ghost, though? She could be something else?” Kevin argued.

                “I mean, she could be something else. The stories we heard always say a woman in white, that doesn’t necessarily mean a ghost. There are other creatures that eat hearts and plenty who appear as human when they need to,” Dean added.

                “That still leaves us with nowhere to go. I say we still try Castiel’s incantation tomorrow night and just keep researching tomorrow until then. Without any sort of claw or tool marks on the body we can only hope to catch this thing before a kill. We could stake out the entrances to the woods tonight and hope that they use main gates instead of entering the woods from anywhere else,” Sam worried.

                “Ugh. Not tonight. If some cheating bastard gets himself killed tonight, then it’s his fault. I need sleep, and so do the rest of you. Let’s just eat, watch a movie, and go to bed. I’m too exhausted to bother with anymore of this,” Dean yawned and slumped down into a kitchen chair and continued to eat his dinner.

                “You do look way more tired than usual,” Castiel noted.

                “Thanks. You look radiant too,” Dean scoffed.

                “He’s been weird ever since he got that lap dance,” Kevin laughed.

                “Hush,” Dean shot.

                “Really?” Sam cocked a brow.

                “Just a very pretty girl. Nothing weird. I’m just tired, man. It hasn’t exactly been smooth sailing lately,” Dean retorted.

                “Seemed like a big deal to me,” Kevin mumbled.

                “Ugh. Enough from all of you,” Dean grunted, “I’m gonna hit the bed. We have a plan for tomorrow night. Let’s just focus on that and just rest up.”

                “Are you sure you’re ok?” Sam confirmed.

                “Yes. Just really tired, guys. Nothing to freak out about. A man is entitled to a nap every now and again. Go curl up with your angel boyfriend and stop worrying about me.”

                Dean walked back through the bunker towards his room. He toed off his boots and stripped off his flannel before peeling off his pants. Wearing a dark t-shirt and boxer briefs he was quick to climb into bed. Normally he would take at least 20 minutes or more to fall asleep. This time he was out cold in under 3. He ended up sleeping a solid 11 hours until Sam dragged him out of bed.

 

 

                “Are you sure it’s this way?” Dean hissed at Castiel.

                “Yes, Dean. The incantation is very simple. Just keeping going this way,” Castiel reminded. Dean and Sam were following him through the woods toward where his incantation said the bones would be. They were all relieved to find the presence of a ghost being confirmed. It certainly made things easier. With no new bodies showing up the night before they made their move as soon as the sun went down. Kevin’s additional research proved extremely beneficial. He found a missing person’s report in the library archives from at least 90 years ago. A woman disappeared about 4 days after her wedding, but they didn’t look for long.

                “Do you guys smell smoke?” Dean stopped.

                “I do…” Sam hummed.

                “Look,” Castiel pointed through the trees towards a faint light flickering in the distance. All three of them slowly pursed the light until they came to a small clearing. They saw a fire smoldering with a small, hooded figure near it. They were small, not more than 5’5”. Off to the side was the dead body of an older man slumped against a tree. He wondered if it was the ghost or this person that killed him.

                “Hey, what are you burning out here?” Dean demanded, attempting to pull on an allure of authority. The person spun around and they were confronted with a petite girl who had silvery, blonde hair and brown eyes.

                “…Stevie? The dancer from the other night?” Dean froze.

                “Umm…,” she paused.

                “Agnes?” Castiel sputtered. She turned quickly to face him and tilted her head.

                “My, my. No one has called me that in a very long time,” she purred.

                “But – I – we thought you were dead? More dead. At least. We – “ Castiel seemed unable to finish his thought.

                “Oh, Cassie. Unruffle your feathers and take a breath,” she grinned.

                “Who are you?” Sam stepped forward.

                “No one important. Just finishing something, but I’ll be on my way,” she flung a bag over her shoulder but Castiel stopped her.

                “No. Stay. We looked for you for years,” Castiel growled. He gave her another look over and realized something was off, more off than her being alive and on earth in the first place.

                “And you found me. Congratulations,” she teased.

                “Gabriel!” Castiel shouted.

                “No, don’t call Gabe,” she groaned. But he was already there before she finished lamenting.

                “Holy crap,” Gabriel was hovering next to Sam and gaping at her.

                “Hiya,” she breathed out.

                “Aggie!” Gabriel rushed her and pulled her into a tight hug, spinning her around in his arms.

                “Still no answers coming our way,” Dean stepped in. Sam coughed and Gabriel set her down.

                “Fine. Fellas, this is Agnes. As in, St. Agnes,” he smirked, “Patron saint of young girls and virginity.” Stevie/Agnes rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. Dean, however, started laughing almost manically.

                “No,” Sam stared.

                “Yes,” Castiel pressed.

                “Explain,” Sam looked at Gabriel.

                “This little piece is one St. Agnes. Died in the year 300 at the hands of some very unruly village folk who were none too keen on her devotion to our lord and savior, Jesus Christ,” Gabriel began.

                “No. You always tell it wrong,” she interrupted.

                “Still very confused over here. How are you even alive?” Dean cocked an eyebrow.

                “God and demons. You know how it goes,” she hummed.

                “We do, sure as hell we do, still need more information, cupcake,” Dean half-glared.

                “Ugh. I am St. Agnes. Yes, I’m the patron saint of virginity for some bloody reason. Feel free to look up all the stories about my sad tale, all are wrong. But I’m not too keen on taking a trip down memory lane in the middle of the woods where rangers on patrol will wander this way any minute. Plus, this dolt needs to be buried,” she pointed at the dead man that had gone unnoted against the tree.

“Yea, we’re going to need you to explain that too,” Dean tightened his jaw.

“Insufferable. All of you. The ghost here has been killing adulterous men, or just ones with wandering hands. Yes, a tired trope, but there’s an endless supply of broken-hearted dead girls. Franklin, one of my regulars, was killed by her 2 weeks back. He wasn’t really a bad man. And he was an adulterer, technically. His wife has been in a coma for more than 8 years. He never started a relationship with anyone else, but saw hookers on occasion. And obviously came to my club. He was a nice man. Kind. Always brought me peach cobbler on super cold nights. But this bitch killed him because he broke her little rule. I tracked her when she lured this piece of garbage off the street one block over from where I work. She was about to go to town on him when I stepped in to finally get rid of her. The idiot didn’t even go far from her body; she was practically on top of it. She turned out to be tougher than anticipated and I had to take some of his life force to actually kill her. Turns out I took too much,” she rambled.

“Life force? What’s going on?” Gabriel looked her over once more and took in a sharp breath, “What happened to you? What are you? Who did this?”

“Crowley and his lot,” she frowned, “After we all got ripped out of heaven.”

“Wait. You were pulled out of heaven? We need to have a serious sit down. Especially need to discuss you killing an innocent man,” Sam glowered.

“Ha! Not innocent by any means. An adulterer and a rapist. Child rapist at that. I had no qualms about letting him die,” she stated.

“How do you know that?” Dean asked.

“Part of my new mojo. Didn’t ask for it. Didn’t want it. But here I am,” she hummed and began to pull her hair back while walking forward towards the path out of the woods. Gabriel snapped his fingers and the body was gone.

“Let’s get you back to our place. We can discuss where you’ve been the past few years over some nice tea,” Gabriel put his arm around Stevie/Agnes and guided her towards the car. The drive was quiet and tense. Dean kept eyeing the girl warily along with Sam. Castiel and Gabriel seemed more overjoyed, even Castiel smiled intermittently. When they arrived at the bunker they all made their way inside and were greeted by Kevin trying to translate an old book. His eyes widened when he saw the girl with the rest of them.

“Dean, why did you bring the stripper home?” Kevin perplexed.

“Stripper?” Gabriel gaped at her.

“Yep. Lovely little development,” she took off her jacket and rolled her shoulders. She was wear a tight, red flannel over ripped jeans and combat boots.

“Time to play catch up, my dear,” Gabriel sat back on the couch with Sam sitting next to him. Castiel remained standing near the entryway with Kevin at his side. Dean moved to the armchair and the girl paced along the bookshelves.

“Before we dive into the thick of it, I’d love a refresher on who you are exactly and how all of this happened. Because, as I understand it, you’re some saint who died and then came back to life. Are you an angel too? Is this a vessel? What’s the deal?” Dean listed.

“Fine, I suppose I can start at the very beginning. You can call me, Stevie, by the way. Agnes is a fine name, but not one I go by anymore,” she started.

“I know the story of St. Agnes. You were tortured and finally killed because you were Christian. You were like, 12, or something. You tried to hide in the church but they caught you. That right?” Sam perplexed, “Our parents actually got married in a St. Agnes Cathedral in Montana. I read a blurb.”

“Sort of. You know the Catholics, ever the type for dramatics. I was 16. But the problem did start when I was 12. Puberty and the like, started blossoming into a young woman, looking less like a child, and men took notice. My family wasn’t wealthy, but we weren’t destitute. Suitors started sniffing around, my mother and I convinced my father to wait until I was older. Not that I wanted to get married at all. I wanted to buy time. See, during that lovely stretch of time women had three options; be a wife, a prostitute, or a nun. I had managed to get an apprenticeship with a local baker and I loved it, but it was unlikely I would be able to run one on my own. I just kept baking and making deliveries, I donated everything left at the end of the day to the local cloister that also ran an orphanage. There I met a priest named Simon. We formed a strong friendship. That’s when Gabriel came into the picture,” she smirked at him.

“Ah, yes. The dutiful priest who prayed to me and god almost hourly,” he recalled.

“When I was 16 a Duke asked my dad for my hand in marriage. He said yes. I did not want to marry that man. He was vile. 30 years older than me and cruel. But he was absurdly wealthy. I ran away. Simon hid me in the abbey. You see, he was very sympathetic to my situation. He was…back then he was referred to as a pervert. Today you would just call him gay. I was terrified and we begged Gabriel to save me from my fate. He showed up in the church and we both nearly fainted. Seems Gabriel had been listening to and watching Simon for quite some time. I watched them awkwardly flirt for a few hours before Gabriel offered up a solution. I took a vow of chastity we were going to leave; head south. Everything was set, but the Duke came after me. He was enraged by my vow and somehow garnered a great deal of support apparently. Many of them hated the church and the rules put in place by it. I became a victim for their cause, Simon too. They dragged us through the streets to a brothel. They had every intention of…I’m sure you understand their intent. But Gabriel appeared and blinded them. We escaped before being captured by the court. I was put in trial for violating my father’s agreement with the Duke, Simon for aiding me. They also seemed to think we were witches given all the men that fell blind trying to hurt us. We were found guilty and they planned to burn us in the town square. The flames never touched our skin, kept being whipped away. Gabriel’s doing, again. But that’s where his interventions stopped. God ordered us to pay the price for our sins. Still not sure what mine were. But when the fire didn’t hurt us our throats were slit. We bled out in the street.

“We actually went to purgatory for awhile until the church canonized me. Suddenly I was thrust up into heaven. Saints tend to hold a special place there. I spent my days watching mankind alongside the angels. Cas and I have quite the bond. Gabe too. Then someone started breaking seals, one of which pulled myself and all the other saints out of heaven. We landed on earth in our former bodies somehow. Yes, this is me. Right down to the scar on my inner thigh from falling and landing on a hot iron when I was 4. Some of us died right away. The rest of us were…captured by demons. Crowley sent droves of them after us. They were creative, I’ll give them that. They took what we were known for and changed us to the antithesis of that. St. Anthony of Padua wanders the earth lost, unable to find anything. St. Ambrose kills all pollinators he comes in contact with or walks near. St. Katherine of Bologna can’t paint for shit. Me – well, patron saint of virgins, they tried to turn me into a succubus. But they worded things a bit wrong. I’m a samodiva now,” she finished.

“Wow. Samodiva? Old school,” Gabriel chuckled. “Does that make you the only one?”

“I think so. Not like I’ve sought any others out. Just been trying to survive without going full monster. Hence the stripping,” she frowned.

“What is a samodiva? I’ve never heard of those, but I have heard of a succubus,” Dean stared.

“Samodiva, not dissimilar to succubae, but there are some large differences. They appear to be very beautiful women, usually described as ethereal and graceful. Our Agg – Stevie, has that down. Obviously. They can turn into birds and spit fire. They are known, however, for attracting and arousing men then stealing their life force, much like a succubus. They dance to lure in their victims. Sometimes they lead men around for days until they’ve had their fill,” he explained.

“So, when you gave me that lap dance and I ended up sleeping for almost 12 hours?” Dean tightened his jaw.

“Yes. Sorry about that. I actually felt called to you. Enochian was echoing off your body. As soon as I touched you I could feel that sigil etched into your ribs. And boy, did you give me a boost,” she smiled.

“Great,” he grumbled.

“Be nice, Dean-o. She’s just trying to survive. Have you ever killed anyone, apart from the man we found in the woods? And have you finally dropped that v-card you are known for?” Gabriel listed.

“He’s the only one I’ve killed on purpose. And I am still a virgin, I found a loophole. All I need to do is entice and then touch. No need to sully myself. The first time I tried I drained the man of all that he had, didn’t sleep for 4 days almost. I learned to hold back after that,” she sighed.

“This is – I don’t know what to make of all of this,” Kevin stammered.

“Neither do I, kiddo,” Dean moved to pour himself a drink.

“How many other saints are alive?” Castiel wondered.

“I only personally know of about 24. But we scattered all across the globe. Ambrose is in New York, he updates me whenever he gets word on others,” she answered.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you, despite the transformation,” Gabriel pressed.

“I’m pretty glad to see a familiar face too,” she walked over to the couch and sank into his lap, pressing her head to his shoulder.

“Cuddly bunch,” Dean took a sip of his whiskey, “Don’t make Sammy jealous.”

“I’d never,” he stroked Sam’s hair and grinned.

“Hmmm, your boyfriend?” Stevie tilted her head. Gabriel just nodded in response while Sam blushed, “He is your type.”

“Gabe has a type?” Dean grimaced.

“Yes,” Castiel and Stevie replied.

“Ugh. So what’s the plan. We found a saint. Do we just let her keep living? Do we find the others? Does this even matter?” Dean chimed.

“Well, I’m not letting this one out of my sight again. And I think, if we track down some others, we might be able to undo some very serious wrong,” Gabriel began.

“Undo what exactly?” Kevin quirked.

“The saints provided a balance that no longer exists. You know everything in heaven went tits up and it was chaos without the saints because, believe it or not, they are a specific sort of safeguard. People pray to them and then they carry the fears, desires, hopes, and everything else of mankind with them. They answered prayers more than dad did. Think of god like faeries – no belief and there is suddenly a lot less power floating around. No saints means a lot less belief. Therefore, a lot less power. We get some saints back up in the cloudy, sunny afterlife and we can start getting some stuff back in alignment,” the archangel resounded.

“I don’t want to go back to heaven,” Stevie sighed.

“Seriously?” Dean perked up.

“Well, not right now. I am rather enjoying some of my time here. A lot more freedom than I ever had the first time around. Food is much better. And the fashion,” she yawned.

“Aww, ran out of life force, sweetheart?” Dean taunted.

“I am human, technically. Need sleep just like everyone else,” she furrowed her brow.

“You’re with us from now on. I’ll set up a room for you,” Gabriel picked her up and started to carry her towards the hallway.

“Hold up, she’s staying with us?” Dean froze.

“Of course she is. One of my oldest friends turns out not to be dead, it would be rude not to invite her to stay. Besides, we both know I can get Sammy to agree,” Gabriel waggled his eyebrows.

“She should stay, Dean. She is important and powerful. And…dear to me. I would appreciate keeping her close for awhile,” Castiel cut in.

“Sam?” he looked at his brother.

“I see no reason why not. She’s a saint from centuries ago. If Gabriel was right about the whole restoring balance thing then we should really roll with this,” Sam argued.

“Its weird, Sam,” Dean deflated.

“When is it not weird?” he countered, “We live with two angels and a prophet, plus we have a witch on retainer. Adding a saint to the mix doesn’t exactly make the situation any worse,” he continued.

“Fine. But if she steps out of line I will be very upset,” Dean shot back the rest of his drink. Sam followed Gabriel. Castiel was apparently gone and Kevin was just staring.

“Any thoughts?” he looked at the boy.

“Not really. She’s nice,” he shrugged and turned towards the library. Dean, defeated, made his way to his own room. Just two doors down was the spare set up for their new saintly roommate. He could hear her humming from his doorway before he closed up and went to bed.


	2. Chapter 2

                Dean had trouble waking up, his joints hurt and everything was stiff. But he was warm and comfortable otherwise. His alarm clock displayed 7:30am and he began to silently curse his brain for waking him up so early. It was barely 1am when he fell asleep. The only saving grace he could note was the smell of freshly baked something wafting into his room. He could detect the scent of cinnamon and caramel and it egged him on. He climbed out of bed and pulled on some dark blue pajama bottoms. He opened his door and made his way to the kitchen. He could hear music coming from the kitchen along with the alluring smell.

 

 _All that time she knew if I lied_  
You can bet she will   
She's taking her time 'til I thought I would die   
And I can't sit still   
  
Things got turned 'round   
Don't know where I started from, damn   
Can't eat, can't sleep   
Could have been a bigger man, damn   
What's the matter girl don't you think I'm bright enough   
This old man had a hard time getting here   
You can leave your number at the door 

 

                He hovered in the entryway and saw Stevie rolling out dough on the counter with Gabriel next to her spooning something onto it. Once he spooned the mixture on she folded the dough over and pinched it closed. They were humming along to the song while Sam sipped coffee at the table. She was wearing a short that was definitely Dean’s, tucked into her jeans from the night before. Her hair was pulled up into a loose bun. She had some flour on her nose and Gabriel had it all over the front of his shirt. Castiel was pulling a pan out of the oven and he was smiling in a way Dean hadn’t seen in a long time.

                “Seems like I’m late to the party. Who knew angels and saints liked wuss rock,” Dean joked.

                “Morning, sunshine. You are in for a treat. Stevie made something that even you will absolutely love,” Gabe grinned.

                “Coffee?” Sam held up a mug in his brother’s direction.

                “Yea, man. So, what’s being baked in here. We barely use that oven,” Dean poured a cup and scrubbed his hand over his face.

                “Apple pasties,” Stevie replied in a sing-song voice.

                “Old world recipe. We had to get unprocessed animal fat and raw butter. She doesn’t do anything by halves,” Gabriel dusted off his hands.

                “Pasties?” Dean wrinkled his nose.

                “Like hand-pies, Dean. You’ll like them,” Sam answered.

 

 _Says she can find_  
The things that make up a life   
I bet she will   
She stays behind, I could stay here all night   
I could stay here until   
  
Until there's nothing at all   
Yeah there's nothing at all   
Well there's nothing at all   
To make her change her mind

 

                “Hmm, if they’re as good as the smell then maybe I can forgive her for wearing my shirt,” he gave her a look.

                “You all brought me here last night without stopping at mine first. What else was I supposed to wear?” she giggled.

                “We can swing by your place later. You’ll be sticking with us. You aren’t attached to your place are you?” Gabriel wondered.

                “Not one bit. It’s a tiny studio uptown, the only place that would give me a month-to-month lease without any identification of any kind. All I had to do was flash all the hard cash I make as a dancer. I barely have anything in there,” she shrugged.

                “Perfect. We can have the Winchester twins draw you up some IDs too. That way you can even drive a car, vote in the next election, and pay your taxes,” Gabriel expressed.

                “Yea, that’s not a problem,” Sam smiled. Gabriel winked and sauntered over to Sam before just plopping down in his lap. They brushed their noses together before kissing chastely.

                “We talked about all the lovey dovey crap in front of me,” Dean furrowed his brow at them.

                “This is nothing. I’ve seen Gabriel fornicate,” Stevie laughed.

                “Me, as well,” Castiel added. Sam was gaping at his angel boyfriend as Dean laughed at Sam’s clear discomfort.

                “Need I remind you that we do not discuss my past boy-toys while I sit atop my current one,” he boxed Sam’s ears comedically.

                “Boy-toy?” Sam confirmed.

                “My favorite one,” Gabriel teased, Sam bristled, “Kidding! I’m kidding! Not a boy-toy. Promise. We did the whole feather thing, remember?”

                “You what?” Stevie beamed.

                “So much to catch you up on,” he ran his fingers through Sam’s hair. Dean was plating up one of the apple pasties but Stevie stopped him before he could take a bite.

                “Wait,” she spooned a thick cream over the top, “I made whipped vanilla cream from scratch. It will make it a hundred times better.” She hopped up on onto the counter and crossed her legs as she watched him dig in. As soon as he took a bite a nearly obscene moan escaped.

                “You are forgiven for my shirt and for stealing my energy. You need to make me more of these though,” he said with a full mouth.

                “I made 3 dozen. You can simply freeze and reheat whatever you don’t eat today,” she swayed on her seat.

                “Lap dances and pie,” Dean smiled and took another bite.

                “You didn’t even get a good lap dance,” she divulged.

                “I want to be offended, but just can’t be right now,” he took a larger bite and relaxed against the counter top.

                “Cassie, can you please use your mojo to take me back to mine? I’d love to collect my things, especially my recipes. Then we go grocery shopping. I want to make a nice dinner before I go to work tonight,” she disclosed.

                “You’re going to work tonight? Why?” Dean gawked.

                “First, because I need to make a living. Second, I need energy to stay alive. Unless you intend to volunteer for me to give you endless lap dances,” she grinned wickedly and thrust her chest forward.

                “She wouldn’t be able to kill you, Dean. The sigil on your ribs protects you being killed in such a way,” Castiel offered.

                “I – uh – there are 4 other guys in this bunker,” he sputtered.

                “True, but I’d never go for a prophet. Too dicey. Sam here is…attached, and the angels got no juice for me. That just leaves you, my blonde crusader,” she winked, “So, I’ll go to work and dance for strange men and live another day.”

                “I don’t like it,” Castiel chimed.

                “Neither do I. You’re better than this,” Gabriel looked genuinely disappointed, “I saved you from this for a reason. I blinded half a town to protect you and Simon from what you’re doing now. More or less.”

                “Unless you can just make me 100% human again then this is how I live,” she turned her back to the room and rinsed her hands in the sink. Her lips quivered briefly, not that any of them could see. She collected herself before turning back.

                “We can probably figure it out. A demon turned you. We could turn you back,” Sam theorized.

                “No need to waste your time. I can survive,” she sighed, “Besides, I’m careful. I don’t hurt anyone. Not permanently anyway. It’s my lot. Now, someone take me to my hovel so I can move into these much better digs.”

                “Someone making pie?” Kevin yawned when he stumbled into the kitchen.

                “Stevie made hand pies,” Dean said with a full mouth.

                “Oh. Good. Do we have coffee? I was up too late studying samodivas. There is so little written about them. I had to venture into some obscure poetry from the 1800s for some stuff. According to most of the mythology they’re sort of like harpies, but with some of the qualities of a succubus, as we discussed last night. They are supposed to be connected to the forest and knowledgeable of plants and herbs. Plus there’s the stuff about the hair,” Kevin started. 

                “You fellas chat, Cas and I are going to hit the road. Back in a tick,” She tugged on Castiel’s sleeve and he rolled his eyes before they disappeared.

                “Fantastic, what else?” Dean groaned.

                “Yea, the hair. One story said if you cut their hair it might take their powers away. Another said it would kill them. There was a thing about the Cult of Orpheus too. There’s more, but I need to translate them. Most are in Bulgarian,” Kevin finished.

                “What about the poem you mentioned?” Gabriel pressed.

                “Umm, its _Hadzhi Dimitir_ by Histro Botev. It tells the story of a warrior. Hold on,” Kevin left the kitchen quickly and returned with a book, “Here. It mostly praises the man but the section towards the end is about them;

 

He's alive, he's alive! There on the Balkan Mountain

Drowning in his blood, groaning

A hero lies with a deep wound in his chest

A hero in his youth, in his prime.

 

His rifle's cast to one side

His broken sword the other;

His eyes dim - his head reels

As his mouth curses the universe!

 

The hero lies, while in the sky

The angry sun bakes down;

A harvest girl sings in far-off field

And his blood flows more quickly now!

 

It's harvest time ... so sing, you slave girls

Sing your sad songs! And you, sun -

Shine on that slavish land! This hero

Will perish too ... but be quiet, my heart!

 

He who falls in freedom's fight

Dies not - he's mourned

By earth and sky, Nature and beast,

And singers remember him in song...

 

By day a mother eagle lends him shade

And a wolf meekly licks his wound,

While on high a falcon - heroic bird -

Keeps watch over her brother hero!

 

Evening comes - the moon rises

Stars flood the vaulted sky;

The woods rustle, the wind blows -

The Balkan sings a hajdut song!

 

And wood nymphs in white array

Lovely, beautiful, take up the song -

Softly treading the verdant grass

'Til they reach the hero and sit down.

 

One binds his wound with herbs

Another splashes him with water

A third hastens to kiss his mouth

As he gazes at her - lovely, smiling.

 

"Tell me, sister, where is - Karadzha?

And where is my loyal band?

Tell me - then take my soul -

I want to die here, sister!"

 

They clap their hands, then embrace

And soar into the heavens, singing;

They fly and sing until the dawn

Seeking the spirit of Karadzha...

 

But it's already dawn! And on the Balkan

The hero lies, his blood flowing -

While the wolf licks his vicious wound,

And the sun bakes on ... and on!” he recited.

                “Huh. There were more than one. Did they generally travel in groups?” Dean asked.

                “It seems like they would, usually. But there are plenty of accounts of them being alone. But I guess they lived longer when they were in a pack or family or whatever. Living alone wasn’t advised,” the prophet replied.

                “She seems to be getting along well enough,” Dean placed his dishes in the sink before he started wrapping up the leftovers to freeze.

                “I’m trying not to get even more upset about this. She is so much more than a stripper in some dive in damn Kansas,” Gabriel glowered.

                “She’s an amazing dancer, if it makes you feel any better,” Dean tried to smooth his mood, but it definitely didn’t work.

                “Tread carefully, Dean-o. I might love your brother but it would be wise if you didn’t speak ill of that girl. She’s been through enough. I will change her back so she can get through what’s left of her life without needing to rely on…this,” he warned.

                “Dude, calm down. She said she was alright with it. She seems like she’s come to terms with how everything has played out,” he countered.

                “You don’t understand. She died trying to escape the lust of men and now needs that same lust just to survive. Very poetic of the demons, I’ll give them that, but I almost disobeyed good old dad just to keep her alive and safe. Now this is where we are. Its cruel. Its unjust,” Gabriel hissed.

                “Its ok, Gabe. I will bet anything we can reverse it. It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve seen people be changed back. Plus, those things are born, not created. There are no accounts I’ve found of someone becoming one,” Kevin interjected.

                “That is going to be our priority for awhile. I’ll even check in upstairs,” he relaxed as Sam wrapped his arms around the angel’s waist. The human pressed his face into Gabriel’s shoulder and held him tighter.

                “Fine, don’t be gone long though,” Sam mumbled against the shirt fabric.

                “Like I could stay away from you for so long. You know I have a weakness,” he chuckled softly.

 

 

                It was half past 4pm when Castiel and Stevie returned to the bunker. She had changed into an outfit that gave Dean a great deal of pause. He was practically frozen as he stared at her putting groceries away while Castiel talked with Gabriel about how the day had gone. She was wearing a long-sleeved, black shirt and tight jean shorts that bare concealed her underwear. A garter belt peaked out from underneath the denim to hold up her dark grey stockings. On top of all that she was still wearing combat boots. Which, if he was being honest, Dean thought were very cute.

                “Please objectify her even longer,” Gabriel cut in to Dean’s heavy gaze.

                “Dial it back, Gabe. I am dressed to allure. I’ll be wearing this to work tonight,” Stevie interrupted the potential spat.

                “Sorry, dollface. You know how protective I can be. You going to be dancing tonight or just tending the bar?” Gabriel cocked his head.

                “Probably both, but I am just scheduled for the bar. I’m sure I’ll be goaded onto the stage,” she sighed.

                “Dean is going with you to keep watch,” Sam added.

                “Because I’ve proven to be entirely helpless what with my surviving all on my own for the past few years?” she turned to glared at all of them.

                “Not my idea,” Dean coughed.

                “Its just for assurances. Plus, we know Dean never passes up a chance to drink in a dark room surrounded by questionable characters,” Gabriel teased.

                “I will agree to having an escort under the condition that we all stop treating me with kids gloves, yea?” she huffed.

                “Fine. But the book bunch here is working hard on finding a way to change you back. I even took a stroll through the pearly gates to gather some intel. We might be able to do it, given enough time,” the angel grinned.

                “Always taking care of me,” she walked over and kissed the tip of his nose.

                “I have a few questions, if that’s alright?” Sam interjected. Stevie just nodded and went back to the grocery bags. She pulled out a whole chicken, vegetables, and assorted other things. Gabriel moved beside her and started prepping the area without needing any direction. Dean was at the kitchen table pouring over the work Kevin had placed out and started looking for corresponding texts to help.

                “Ok. Great. Question 1, have you found any people or creatures that your samodiva draining powers don’t work on?” he started.

                “Actually, yes. Trial and error is a fun way to live. My powers only work on people attracted to women, I might be lovely but I can’t change someone’s orientation. Otherwise all straight men, bisexual people, and lesbians are fair game. As far as creatures go, there’s a bit of a mixed bag. My powers do not work on vampires or skinwalkers. That was an unfortunate turn of events when I was in Missouri. They do work on werewolves, though. Still sorting out the rest,” she answered.

                “I guess it not working on vamps makes some sense. Not sure about the skinwalkers though,” Dean mumbled.

                “Obviously it doesn’t work on angels. I think it might also not work on demons. At least not all of them. Low level demons are probably fair game, but the higher up the food chain the less likely I’ll be able to zap them,” she added. Gabriel was chopping vegetables and layering them in a baking dish while Stevie had worked a dry rub onto the chicken she was now placing in the oven. They developed a comfortable give and take as the day wore on. Stevie tried to answer as many questions as she could about her abilities, not that she was incredibly knowledgeable in that area. Over dinner they all laughed over the food. Everyone was overwhelmed by how delicious the meal was. Dean complimented her and was fairly vocal about needing her to cook more.

                “She is not your cook,” Gabriel laughed.

                “I like cooking, honestly. A skill that carried over in and out of death. The dancing isn’t new either,” she hummed as she sipped her water.

                “You were always good at it. Though, I imagine that your mother would be particularly pleased with your dancing now,” Gabriel smirked.

                “Definitely not. My sister might be jealous though, always the jezebel and demanding of attention,” Stevie sighed.

                “I do recall stories of her…misdeeds,” Castiel nodded.

                “Is she as mouthy as you?” Dean joked.

                “Very much so,” Stevie purred.

                “It’s almost 8. When do we need to get you to work?” Dean redirected.

                “About 15 minutes. So, get yourself nice and pretty,” she hummed.

                “Ground rules,” Gabriel stopped them, “Dean will pay attention to Stevie, so no wandering off to get lap dances. And no getting drunk.”

                “I had no intention of getting any lap dances with a saint hovering over my shoulder,” the hunter grumbled.

                “You received one,” Sam chuckled.

                “I didn’t know she was a saint at the time,” he countered.

                “Whatever, let’s get going. If I’m late then Frida will have my head,” Stevie tugged Dean towards the door. His hand was in hers and he just let her lead the way.


	3. Chapter 3

                The club was exactly as he remembered it; smokey and loud. He followed Stevie passed the bouncer who nodded him through after Stevie insisted that he was her guest for the night and didn’t need to pay the cover. She smiled broadly at everyone they passed before rounding behind the bar. Dean took a seat towards one end and watched her remove her coat and pull back her long hair into a ponytail. Then she unbuttoned the top two of her shirt to show off some cleavage and winked at Dean who was watching.

                “Scotch?” she leaned over the counter.

                “Sure,” Dean sighed. She smiled and poured him two fingers before setting up her station. He watched her cut lemons and oranges before sectioning them off into different containers. Another man came up and ordered a couple of beers and went back to another table. Soon a dancer came beyond the bar, a girl with olive skin and black hair. She had tattoos covering her arms and she was wrapping an arm around Stevie’s shoulder to give her a quick side hug.

                “Hey, darlin’. Can you make me 3 dry martinis for my 5 top?” the girl asked.

                “Of course. Well or top shelf?” Stevie sought.

                “Well, they didn’t seem very particular. Who’s your friend?” she looked to Dean.

                “This is my friend Dean. He’s hanging out tonight,” Stevie smiled as she mixed up the cocktails.

                “Saw him come in with you. Is he gonna be your watch dog? Boyfriends never do well when they go to their girl’s work,” she hummed.

                “Not her boyfriend. Really just a friend,” Dean held out his hand.

                “Carla. Nice to meet you. How long have you known our Stevie?” she grinned.

                “Not too long. Learning something new about her every day,” he took a drink and smiled. Soon a girl with dirty blonde hair hopped over to the bar.

                “Jeremy was asking about you again,” the new girl informed Stevie.

                “Of course he was. Did you remind him that I don’t do private dances and have no intention of changing my personal policy?” she rolled her eyes.

                “He’s always pushy about it,” the girl grunted.

                “Who is this Jeremy fella?” Dean tilted his head.

                “Stevie’s biggest fan. She had to stop giving him much attention at all. Not sure why she doesn’t pull the trigger and just get him banned already,” Carla answered.

                “Because she’s too nice,” the other girl preened. She pulled two beers from the fridge and walked off.

                “Frida is going to ask you to dance later, just FYI,” Carla shrugged before taking off with her drinks.

                “That’ll make it easier. Then I won’t have to flirt with anyone at the bar,” Stevie grabbed a bottle of water and took a long swig.

                “How often do you get trouble from your lovely patrons?” Dean sought.

                “Not usually, actually. Sure, there are a few jerks now and again, but most of them are just here for one thing and they know they won’t get it without being cooperative,” she started cleaning off some glasses when another man sat at the bar.

                “Can I get a jack and coke?” he asked.

                “Sure. One sec,” she turned around to start mixing up his drink and the man was clearly checking out her ass but Dean kept his thoughts about it to himself, besides, he was looking at her as well.

                “Thanks, doll,” he nodded when she set his drink down, “What’s your name, sweetheart? Do you dance here too or just serve drinks?”

                “I dance too. I’ll be up later tonight,” she replied. Dean finished off his drink and held his glass up in her direction. She refilled it without hesitation.

                “Mmmm, when you going up? I’d love to see the rest of that skin under your clothes,” he shamelessly stated.

                “I don’t go fully nude,” she informed.

                “That’s a damn shame. I want to see every inch you’re hiding. Maybe pay you extra for some extra,” he growled.

                “I’m wondering why you think its alright to speak to me that way?” she bristled.

                “You’re a stripper aint ya?” the man stopped.

                “She is. But also a person. So try some respect,” Dean cut in.

                “Stay out of this, dude,” he glared at Dean.

                “Nah, don’t think so. Finish your drink and go bother someone else,” Dean turned all the way to face him. The man snarled and ended up leaving the bar, Dean felt victorious, but his positive feelings were short-lived when he found Stevie giving him a displeased look.

                “What did I say about kid gloves?” she sassed.

                “If you recall, I never agreed,” the hunter sassed.

                “Ugh. Whatever. I am hundreds of years older than you. I can handle someone like him. In fact, he wouldn’t be the worst or the first,” she reminded.

                “Yea, yea. Just let me do my job, sweetcheeks,” Dean sassed. She narrowed her eyes but relaxed and went back to working. A few more customers came and went at the bar, most orders came from the other servers. They had been quietly working and observing for an hour before Dean broke the silence again.

                “So, tell me about what coming back to life is like,” he questioned.

                “You say that like you also haven’t died and come back to life. Or like you haven’t also been to purgatory,” she laughed.

                “I’ve never been to heaven, that’s for damn sure,” he continued, “I can’t imagine being alive is better than that.”

                “It is and it isn’t. They aren’t wrong that its paradise. It is beautiful and indescribable. I was surrounded by angels, I could watch humanity and immerse myself in any number of things. I speak about 6 languages now. I don’t know how many books I’ve read. Its like have endless amounts of free time without ever getting bored. Of course, being saint also meant I was flooded with prayers. God, just all over the world. Some form people who didn’t even know my name, they just came to me due to the nature of their prayers. Some were hopeful, others were…heart wrenching. Some could be answered, others could not. You know as well as I do that there’s an endless supply of people who need help. But the pressure…I’m not special and I don’t see why I was so important that sainthood came into the picture at all. But here we are; two humans being yanked around by gods and demons until some sort of quota gets met. Feels limitless,” she went on.

                “I was just a body Michael needed, you were sainted. Seems like you were at least somewhat important,” he looked at her.

                “I was sainted by men, not god or the angels. That title was given for the sake of politics. You were chosen by god because you are a truly righteous man,” Stevie smiled softly.

                “I think we’ve been using different dictionaries. Nothing righteous about me,” he tilted his head.

                “Stevie, get ready to fill in the 10:15 slot,” the red head from the other night interrupted them.

                “Thanks,” she shouted back, “I need to go change and take the stage. Sit tight.” Dean watched her leave the bar and disappear through a side door. He looked back at his drink and gently swirled it in his hand. The amber liquid caught the lights as they changed and dimmed. The music kicked on and it was a song he recognized but wasn’t overly fond of. He could see Stevie’s reflection in the mirror behind the bar. She was wearing a black, lacy dress the hugged her hips. She had let her hair down again and it was falling down her small shoulders. He tried not to look, but it was difficult. She was everything the stories of samodivas described; ethereal, beautiful, captivating. But he also knew that she looked like that before demons ever sank their claws into her. Gabriel was right about things being unfair. Men were sitting around the stage, but her eyes were unfocused.

 

 _Feels like you're making a mess_  
You're hell on wheels in a black dress  
You drove me to the fire  
And left me there to burn  
  
Every little thing you do is tragic  
All my life, oh was magic  
Beautiful girl  
I can't breathe

 

                She was standing near the edge of the platform with the straps of her dress sliding down. Beneath she wore a dark blue slip that had open panels down the sides and another across her back. It made her look impossibly small. The black dress got kicked to the side and one of the servers gathered it up as she walked passed. Stevie took a step down and waltzed towards a man in glasses and a dark suit. He looked nervous as she trailed her fingers up his arm. She brushed her thumb across his cheek and she sat on his knee. He blushed and she leaned forward to whisper in his ear, a coy smile on her lips. Dean felt jealously uncoil in his chest as he saw them through the mirror. He turned around fully and watched her. She stayed back on the man’s knees and placed her hands on his chest. She would rotate her hips to the music and she nodded as he placed one hand on her leg. She seemed to faintly glow again, or that could have been the light on her, Dean wasn’t sure. As the song ended she stood up and shook the man’s hand. He blushed again and his friends cheered him on. Stevie went back behind the stage and Dean just waited.

                She reappeared a few minutes later in her earlier outfit, hair pulled back too. She had washed her makeup off though. He liked her looking fresh faced, better than with paint on her lips. She waved to the man she had danced for as he left and Dean just looked down at his drink.

                “I thought most places had a strict hands-off policy when it came to that sort of thing,” Dean announced.

                “They do. But he was a virgin here for his bachelor party. He didn’t really want a dance. I could hear him quietly pleading in his head for someone to help him keep his promise. He’s a good man who fell to the pressure of his friends. So he got about as chaste a dance as I could manage,” she giggled.

                “You could hear him? Like a prayer?” Dean perked.

                “Yep. He had a medal of St. Michael around his neck. Pure silver. Definitely catholic and kept sending prayers my way. I can hear them still, if the person saying them is nearby. The silver is like a perfect little conduit. I thought I would placate his friends while also serving my own needs. The energy from a good man lasts much longer. And I answered his prayer in my own way. Made him feel safe. Don’t know if you noticed, but we barely had any contact and he blushed throughout,” she sighed.

                “I learn something new every day. Do you need to give any more dances tonight?” he asked.

                “Nope. Even if I go back up on stage I won’t need to give any attention to patrons. I think I’m good for at least 2 days,” she informed.

                “Sounds good to me,” he shot back his last drink and she chugged a water.

                “God, I’m starving. Can we get burgers on the way back? I could eat, like, 3. Milkshake too,” she hummed.

                “You don’t look like you eat burgers,” he chuckled at her.

                “Hey, dancing is hard work. Can you hold yourself up on a pole like that? Burns a lot of calories. I need the carbs and protein,” she explained.

                “But what about the life force you suck up from unsuspecting men? That doesn’t keep you going?” Dean wondered.

                “Its tricky. My body and the life force of the samodiva are almost separate. If I could I would just gorge myself on burgers if it worked,” she answered. As she dropped her empty water bottle in the recycling a tall man with dark, curly hair came up to the bar.

                “Nice show, Stevie. What do I gotta do to get my own private dance?” the man leered.

                “Ask another dancer,” she shrugged.

                “Come on, sugar plum. I’ve been coming here for a year and you’ve only given me a dance one time. What turned you off so much?” he leaned forward against the counter. Dean was on edge and watched him try to intimidate Stevie.

                “We’ve been over this, Jeremy. I pick who I want to dance for. You could offer me a million dollars and it wouldn’t make me anymore likely to pick you,” she glared.

                “So cold. Even when I ask you out for dinner you turn me down. Again and again. I’ve tried to be nice,” Jeremy tightened his jaw with an angry smile on his face.

                “Someone should probably explain to you what ‘nice’ looks like, because this isn’t it,” she shot back.

                “See, I thought you’d eventually see how nice a guy I can be,” he sneered, “I know where you live, ya know. That walk up on Pine and Oak. The town is small, even with the neighboring ones all around you’re easy enough to track. So many people passing through with the main highway right there. Easy to disappear.”

                “Are you…threatening me?” she braced both her hands on the counter.

                “Not threatening, just letting you know what the status quo is,” he glowered.

                “Oh, Jeremy. You’ve made a mistake,” Dean rose from his seat.

                “Stay out of this, unless you want me to cut up your pretty face,” Jeremy lifted his shirt tail to show a knife on a clip attached to his belt. Stevie just rolled her eyes and reached under the counter. She pulled out a shotgun, cocked it, and pointed it right at Jeremy. Dean didn’t even flinch but Jeremy was definitely not expecting it.

                “Mitch!” Stevie shouted. Not a second later was a large, white man practically barreling towards the bar right at Jeremy. He was hit so hard he dropped to the ground. There was a brief struggle before Jeremy was put in a headlock by Mitch.

                “I want him permanently banned. And arrested. He threatened me and apparently knows where I live. Or lived, as it were,” she told Mitch.

                “On it. I’ll hold him here until the cops arrive. Carla already called them the second you pulled the gun. We figured he’d try something sooner or later. You ok?” he sought.

                “I’m fine. Dean will take me home. We live in the same place anyway, which is not the building Jeremy has apparently been stalking,” she breathed out and shoved the gun back under the bar. Jeremy was glaring at her and Dean even more now, his face slowly turning dark red.

                “Finally found yourself a boy?” Mitch snickered.

                “You know me, weakness for green eyes,” Stevie hopped over the bar to stand next to Dean. Dean just smiled and put his arm around her waist, hand settling on her hip.

                “Does she need to stick around?” Dean asked.

                “Nope. We got cameras all over this place, none at the stage mind you. We have 3 at this bar from different angles. Carla overheard the entire conversation so she can give her account. The cops will call Stevie if they need anything else. We’ve had enough complaints about him but never could do anything before. He’s a trucker and always left. Guess he’s stuck here now,” Mitch laughed.

                “Thanks, anything else you need from me?” Stevie looked at Mitch and Carla.

                “Nope. With the cops coming people are about to clear out. Gonna send half of the dancers home anyway. Go home with your ‘friend’,” Carla winked.

                “Sweet. Let’s go get burgers, Dean,” Stevie grinned. She let Dean keep his hand on her hip as they left the club. He put his other hand on the small of her back. He was so close her hair kept brushing against his chin. She smelled like apples. When they climbed into the impala and headed north Dean kept one hand on Stevie’s knee as they drove.

                “Feeling protective?” she smirked.

                “Sorry,” he pulled his hand away, “Maybe a little.”

                “Its fine. It Gabriel had been there I would’ve expected similar treatment, but he would’ve knocked him dead before I drew my gun,” she laughed.

                “You look good with a gun, by the way. Who trained you how to use one?” sought Dean.

                “Before I came here I was in Nebraska and I stopped on a farm. There was an old man who ran a farm with his 2 daughters and older son. I had hitchhiked most of the way. I asked for some water and if I could rest for a little while on their property. The man was so nice, he let me stay in their guestroom for 2 days and offered to drive me to the nearest town. While I stayed there one of horses fell and broke both his legs. It needed to be put down because the damage wasn’t something they could fix. None of the kids wanted to do it but the horse was in pain. The son, Kyle, got me his dad’s gun and showed me how to use it. He was only 14 but he was good. I shot the horse so none of the kids had to. He went easy and quick. When the dad got home we told him what happened and they he decided to give me a few more lessons. After he drove me to the next town over he gave me one of his old revolvers to protect myself. I don’t really need it but it tends to scare people off,” she recounted.

                “Wow. Sounds like a nice guy. You’re lucky you didn’t get locked in some underground torture dungeon,” Dean laughed.

                “True. He was very kind though. He deserves sainthood. Not me,” she sighed and shifted in her seat. She let her head lean against Dean’s arm.

                “Still want burgers?” he asked.

                “Yep. Bacon cheeseburger with fries and a chocolate milkshake. Mmm, maybe onion rings too,” she said in a sing song voice.

                “A girl after my own heart,” he laughed as they turned into an all-night diner.


	4. Chapter 4

                The next morning the bunker was quiet. Sam and Gabriel were in the library looking over information Kevin left out for them, along with a series of sticky notes tell them what not to touch.

                “So demanding for a prophet,” Gabriel laughed.

                “He’s just particular. Even I have my own system,” Sam reminded.

                “True. You get all sort of grumpy when I move your things. It’s adorable,” Gabriel leaned over the chair where Sam was sitting and pressed his face against Sam’s neck. He took a deep breath and started peppering kisses all along Sam’s neck and hairline. He let his hands trail down Sam’s arms until they settle at his waist. He began to tug at the fabric and brushed his fingers along the soft skin.

                “Babe, what are you doing?” Sam breathed out.

                “I feel like that should be pretty clear,” the angel purred.

                “Dean will freak if he catches us in here,” Sam chuckled and stopped reading.

                “Everyone is still asleep and Cas will know not to come in here. Stop worrying so much,” he soothed before moving to straddle Sam’s lap. He pulled Sam’s shirt over his head and started kissing his human roughly. Gabriel began to roll his hips against Sam’s and bit the man’s lower lip. They both begin to breath heavily as Sam grabbed Gabriel’s ass, flushing their bodies closer together. Gabriel was soon reaching between them to unbuckle Sam’s pants and quickly unzipping his fly. He tucked his hands slowly under Sam’s waistband and teased him. Sam bit back a moan just as Gabriel grabbed his dick and began to slowly stroke it. Sam threw his head back against the back of the chair and tried to still his hips to not thrust up against his lover.

                “Don’t hide your noises, baby,” Gabriel started to lick up his neck when a voice startled them.

                “Thought we talked about this, Sammy,” Dean drawled as he wandered into the library while drinking his coffee. Sam quickly shoved himself back into his pants while looking for his shirt. Gabriel just laughed to himself.

                “We thought you were asleep. Its like 7:00am. What are you even doing up?” Sam asked.

                “Dunno. Just couldn’t fall bask asleep. So, coffee – and I already had like 2 of those pasties. I’ll eat my weight in them,” he sat in one of the larger chairs and continued to slowly drink his coffee while gathering a book that he had set aside the day before.

                “How late were you up? You weren’t home yet when I went to sleep,” Sam was pulling his shirt back on and Gabriel climbed off his lap.

                “Probably about 1:00am when we got back. It was a weird night, man. We ended up leaving her work early because she drew a gun on some guy. Wasn’t expecting that. So we got burgers after that and came back here,” Dean informed.

                “Wait, a gun? Why the hell would she need to pull a gun?” Gabriel glared.

                “Apparently she had a stalker and he wasn’t exactly jazzed about being ignored. He threatened me and her, so she pulled a shotgun from under the bar and aimed it at him before I could. They called the cops,” Dean shrugged.

                “But how did she get to a place where she needed a gun? Were you that distracted by the other girls that you couldn’t even pay attention to her? Should I have sent Sam instead?” Gabriel narrowed his eyes.

                “Dude, back off. I was with her the whole time,” Dean defended.

                “Qualessi sò i indispittìvi, à Dean di? ( _What are you mad at Dean for_?)” Stevie interjected as she entered the library, following Gabriel’s angry voice.

                “I sugnu pazzu picchi tu bisognu di un fucili. Volesi dì ch'ellu ùn facia u so mistieru. _(I am mad because you needed a gun. It means he was not doing his job_.),” Gabriel tightened his jaw.

                “Ddu mischinu havi cchiossà un prublemu per un bellu pezzu. I putìssiru aviri bisognu di u cannone s'ellu Dean avìa statu ddà, o nò. ( _That man has been a problem for a long time. I would have needed the gun whether Dean had been there or not_.),” she countered.  

                “Chissu nun mi sentu megghiu. ( _That does not make me feel better_.),” the angel grumbled.

                “Cosa ci dicu su usannu guanti caprettu? ( _What did I say about using kid gloves?_ ),” she crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a long look. Dean and Sam kept glancing between the bickering duo. It was funny because it seemed like Stevie was taking him to task. But they both hated being hated being talked about while in the room.

                “Feel like a little kid right now. Wanna try English?” Dean sighed.

                “Gabe is just complaining about you. He thinks I’m incapable of taking care of myself,” she moved to sit on the arm of Dean’s chair. Gabe glared at them both and took on a grumpy expression.

                “Were you speaking enochian?” Sam sought.

                “Yep. I was up there for an awfully long time,” she smiled.

                “Wow. I have been trying to learn but its nearly impossible,” Sam complained.

                “He just wants to speak dirty to me in front of everyone,” Gabriel teased.

                “Anyway, are you done being a sour puss about last night?” Stevie tilted her head as she looked at Gabriel.

                “I suppose I will be,” he huffed. A second later Castiel appeared in the library and he seemed on edge.

                “What’s up, Cas?” Dean asked.

                “I want to know which saints Stevie knows of. We need to begin seeking them out,” he stated.

                “Why so soon?” Sam added.

                “I feel like we need to find and help all the ones we can. We failed them,” Castiel hung his head.

                “You didn’t fail any of us,” Stevie paused.

                “You all fell and we couldn’t find you, couldn’t save any of you – “

                “No. Stop. Lilith and her followers did this. And she’s dead. You wouldn’t have been able to find any of us. They hid us. I was kept underground for almost a month before. We all were, in different ways. We can track down as many as possible, but you can’t be blaming yourself for any of this. In a way…it was inevitable,” Stevie was up and holding both of Castiel’s hands and rubbing his knuckles with her thumb.

                “I will feel better once we have found them. I want to start,” he sighed.

                “Then we can. I will make a list of those that I know of and we can call Ambrose for the rest. The closest right now is probably Dymphna. She is in Chicago,” she informed.

                “Good. We can leave to get her soon enough,” then Castiel was gone again.

                “That never gets old,” Dean stretched and finished his coffee.

                “Are we really going to track down saints?” Sam asked.

                “Yea. Cas is dead set on it. Plus, we do need to try and get some back upstairs. This also gives us the opportunity for a new road trip,” Gabriel mused.

                “Which one is Dymphna?” Dean questioned.

                “She is the patron saint of those suffering from mental illness, among other things. She in an asylum. The demons cursed her to only speak the truth. Obviously it doesn’t exactly make her sound sane and without any identification she was basically made a ward of the state and given various benefits. But one day she was attacked by demons and ended up causing quite a bit of property damage during the fight. Then she accidentally injured some passerby. They deemed her unsafe to be among the general population and she was locked up,” Stevie recalled.

                “That’s terrible,” Sam effused.

                “It is. Can’t even contact her. And I know demons keep showing up to torment her, makes her seem even more unstable,” Stevie frowned.

                “Then, let’s go. I’ll go work on my baby and get her ready for a long drive,” Dean announced as he made his way out of the room towards the garage.

                “Wait,” Stevie paused, “I don’t know if I’ll be able to take a bunch of time off work or anything.”

                “Sweetheart, you can just quit. You’re with us now. We can take care of you as far as money is concerned,” Gabriel reminded.

                “I like to provide for myself without relying on other people more than I already do,” she argued.

                “You’re safer with us,” Gabriel pressed.

                “You need to give me a little more time, Gabe. I’ve been surviving on my own for years since I was pulled from heaven. I’ll be on board with all these plans, but you need to let me do them by my own terms. I’ll talk to my boss about getting possible time off,” she breathed out.

                “Fine. I can handle that,” the angel deflated, “Sorry I’m being all…protective.”

                “It’s fine. Dean was just as bad last night,” she smiled sweetly, “I accept that all the new men I’m surrounded by are going to baby me to a certain degree.”

                “Good,” Gabriel pulled her in for a quick hug as Kevin carried some books into the room.

                “Guys, I found something. I was thinking about all the saints falling and I remembered reading some really old lore in one of the journals here. Apparently, if demons are able to get ahold of a bunch of saints, or their souls, they can harness and absurd amount of power. Like, world ending amounts,” the prophet began.

                “Are you serious?” Sam tensed.

                “Yea, there isn’t a lot more beyond that. I guess other stuff got in the way of research but they were very explicit about making sure demons never managed to control or take the souls of saints. They were vague about it but it seemed like they would try to make deals with them, much like they would with regular humans. But sainted souls are more valuable. In fact, remember when my mom traded her soul for me and the tablet? He said her soul was more valuable than all the other things being offered. I think its something like that,” Kevin finished.

                “You might be onto something, Kev. So, Stevie, just never agree to sell your soul and we’ll be ok,” the angel laughed.

                “I think I can manage,” she rolled her eyes, “I’m going to go take a long, hot bath and read. Then I was thinking about making some pie. Then I will check in on the lot of you.”

                “Geez with the pie. You’ll make Dean fat,” Gabriel noted.

                “Fat and happy. Is he just constantly hitting on you since you made the pasties?” Sam chuckled.

                “He’s actually been a near perfect gentleman,” she hummed.

                “That’s surprising,” Kevin said, “He looked like he was going to eat you the other night.”

                “That was the goal,” she laughed as she finally left the room, leaving everyone else to research and plan their drive up to Chicago. Sam was going to need to hack into the institution’s system to put Stevie on the approved visitors list along with fake approval from her case manager, not like the man probably keeps much track of her anyway what with her being unclaimed and locked up. There’s not much for him to do beyond making sure she stays alive. She’s probably chemically restrained most of the time anyway.

 

 

                It had been a few hours. Stevie ended up taking a long hot bath while reading some Kerouac she stole from Dean’s room, not that he’d notice right away. She hadn’t actually bothered to read much of that genre before and she didn’t find it as alluring as she suspected Dean did. She then spent a long time in the kitchen making a dark chocolate and bing cherry pie. It was one of her favorites and a recipe she had toyed with for a long time. She worked the crust so smoothly that I melted like butter in your mouth. After it was sufficiently cooled she decided to be nice and bring a slice to Dean since he had been working dutifully in the garage for hours. She carried it, along with a glass of water, down the steps and through the long corridor to the garage. She followed the music that was echoing down the hall. As soon as she opened the door she found Dean bent over the hood. A jacket was wrapped around his waist and his arms were entirely bare while smeared with oil and grease. His white shirt was stained and the air in the room was heavy. The music was loud and it was unlikely he would hear her enter.

 

 _Have you seen my hands, just look at ‘em shake._  
And the song just keeps on repeating, drop the needle again.  
And I dance with your ghost. But that ain’t the way…  
I can’t move on and I can’t stay the same.  
  
And all my friends say…  
  
“Hey, turn the record over.  
Hey, I’ll see you on the flip side.  
There you go, turn the key and engine over…  
Let her go, let somebody else lay at her feet.”

 

                She moved quietly and rounded the car to the work bench on the side. She set down the pie and water before hopping onto the surface. Dean looked up and furrowed his brow her a second and then turned down the radio.

                “You seem to really like stealing my clothes,” he pointed. She had stolen his shirt, to be fair. She was sitting there in small, black shorts, a grey tank top, and one of his blue button ups, unbuttoned. 

                “Your fashion tastes are to be celebrated,” she teased and handed him the glass of water and a towel.

                “Thanks,” he drank the entire glass before wiping down his face.

                “How’s the car?” she sighed.

                “As good as ever,” he looked her over again and saw the pie next to her.

                “Did you bring me pie?” he cocked a brow.

                “Of course. I made another one after my bath. Dark chocolate and cherry,” she grinned.

                “Oh, baby,” he groaned and grabbed the plate. He took a large bite and his eyes rolled back in his head, “Fuck. You can stay forever and wear all of my clothes if you keep making pie.”

                “The sounds you make when you eat border on pornographic,” she laughed.

                “Well, what can I say?” he shrugged and took another bite. He easily finished the entire piece in 4 bites, “Is there more?”

                “Assuming no one else ate it all? Yes,” she giggled.

                “Good. I might take it and hide it for myself. You will make me fat,” he licked his fork clean and gave her another once over.

                “I don’t think that’s possible given how active you all are,” she observed.

                “Trying to sweet talk me?” Dean laughed.

                “Like I’d have to try,” she shrugged. She was looking at his arm where the mark of Cain sat deep in his skin. He had been hiding it around her and most other people but he was caught off guard in the garage, “Does it hurt?” she traced her finger across the edge of it.

                “Did when I got it. Still aches sometimes. I try to ignore it when I can,” he sighed.

                “Demons, literal or metaphorical, are a bunch of fucks,” she stated.

                “I hear that,” he closed the top of his car, “I’m gonna go take a shower. Did you snoop anywhere else in my room beyond my closet?”

                “Your bookshelf. Borrowed a book to read in the bath. Decided to take a break from mythology and religious texts in the name of fiction written by pensive, white men,” she hummed and hopped off the bench.

                “Kerouac?” he laughed.

                “Yes. Though, I decided he isn’t ideal bath time reading,” she snickered.

                “Not really. I can find you some Twilight to indulge in your girly bath time,” he teased.

                “Don’t you dare. If I want something erotic, I’ll read some French 18th and 19th century classic works in that vain. Though, I do like _Histoire d’O_ by Desclos, which is more modern. I do not need that vampire dribble,” she huffed.

                “Are you admitting to reading erotica? Do you even get horny being a samodiva? I don’t think the men of letters bothered learning anything like that,” Dean mused.

                “I do get horny. Just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean I’m dead. I just don’t…indulge completely,” Stevie implied.

                “You don’t masturbate?” Dean twisted his face in confusion.

                “I am not talking about masturbation with you,” she crossed her arms over her chest.

                “But you will talk about erotica? You draw a weird line,” Dean was wiping down his arms and giving her entire body a long look.

                “I can discuss erotica objectively,” she pressed, “Discussing how I touch myself when I am alone is another matter entirely.”

                “You work in a strip club. I’m sure you’ve talked about masturbation before. I’m also sure some of your creepier patrons told you about how they think of you and touch themselves,” he stared.

                “Oh, they have. I’ve heard a litany of filthy things, none of which I wanted to hear, by the way,” she rolled her eyes, “but whether or not I take pleasure in my own body is personal. I haven’t even kissed anyone before.”

                “Wait. Stop. No one has kissed you? Or tried to? But – look at you,” he flummoxed.

                “Look at me. Exactly. Anyone who feels any desire for me is not for me. Not really. I do not want the entirety of my sexual experience fueled only by being a samodiva. I want sincerity or I want nothing,” she revealed.

                “I don’t think you’re being a samodiva would mean someone wouldn’t want you otherwise. You looked like this before you were turned, right? People wanted you then – to the point of you being killed because they were babies – but still,” he explained.

                “That’s not the same as someone wanting me. All of me. Including my flaws and idiosyncrasies. All I hear is that various men what to ‘plow me’ and that seems to be the end of it,” she grumbles. Dean felt something unfurl in his chest as he imagined her sitting alone in her room, reading novels about relationships she might hope for but never experience.

                “Maybe you just need to give some guys, or girls, a little more time. It seems like your experiences have been short,” he considered.

                “Maybe. I’ll consider it when people’s first reactions aren’t to jump me. Sort of hard to move forward from there,” she cocked her head.

                “Well, you and I are talking right now. Some would say we are being friendly and the first time I say you was followed by a lap dance. You made me a pie and everything,” he grinned.

                “I made a pie. I didn’t make it for you specifically,” she blushed.  

                “Like I believe that,” he laughed, “Now, seriously. I need to wash up before we start getting ready for our trip. My baby hasn’t gotten a long drive in awhile.”

                “Your car is a girl?” she raised a brow.

                “Of course she is. And the prettiest girl around,” he smoothed over her hood.

                “You’re ridiculous,” she laughed and followed Dean out. He watched her make her way to the common area where the others seemed to be gathered. He made his way to the bathroom and stripped off his soiled clothes. He turned on the shower and let the room begin to feel with steam. He saw his book was still sitting on the counter top that Stevie had left there. She had dog eared a page and he saw a pen tucked in the back. She had started writing notes in the margins. Normally, this would annoy him, but he found it endearing. He smiled and set it down before stepping into the shower. It smelled like citrus in the stall and he spied some sort of lemon scrub on the ledge, Stevie’s. He lifted it to his nose and imagined it rubbing down her skin. He recalled the way her body moved under the bright lights in the club. He tried to conjure up pictures of her lounging in the bathtub, submerged in the hot water. He had tried not to think about her in a sexual context for days, but it was getting harder and harder. Especially with her being around constantly now and wearing his clothes. He saw her wrapped up in his shirt and all he wanted to do was rip it off of her and press her into a wall, or the bed, whatever the nearest surface was. He wanted to pull her apart, piece by piece. He wondered what her face would look like when she came. He wondered what sort of noises she would make. He imagined her lips parting as he ran his hands down his stomach. He was hard, hard enough to cut glass. He hissed as he gripped himself, so sensitive. It had been months, almost a year, since he had been with anyone. But Stevie was everywhere now and even beginning to invade his dreams. He had a dream the night before, of coming home to finish Stevie baking in the kitchen, wearing his shirt and nothing else. He would come up and behind her and bury his face in her hair. He’d turn her around and peel the shirt away entirely and let his hands roam all over.

                “Fuck,” he moaned quietly as he stroked himself under the steady stream of the water. He braced his arm on the shower wall and thought about her lips again, he small waist, and long hair. He wanted to see her gasp underneath him. He stroked himself faster and took a deep breath. He fisted harder and tightened his grip. He thought about her eyes opening slowly in golden morning light and he came all over the tiles. He bit his lip before standing upright and turning unto the spray. He washed himself off and finished cleaning his entire body. He had to shake of the arousal and feelings of had toward the blonde girl who now took up residence with them. That is not what she needed right now.


	5. Chapter 5

                They had a plan. The next morning they would head out for Chicago. Charlie happened to be staying there and was on board with helping them out. Apparently she had no qualms about completely hacking the system of an asylum so they could help a saint escape. She said she would eagerly await them at her appartment. She was also unbelievably excited to meet Stevie.

                “You need to tell me everything, dude,” Charlie giggled on the phone.

                “I do not,” Dean grumbled.

                “Is she overwhelmingly beautiful? Does she turn heads everywhere? Do people’s tongues flop out of their mouths like in cartoons?” Charlie rambled.

                “She’s obviously pretty. But she looks like she did before the whole death and sainthood thing. She just has fancy lifeforce-sucking powers now. Though, she seems to draw a lot of attention. She kinda glows sometimes,” Dean explained.

                “Is she gonna need to feed or whatever on the way up here? And after she gets here?” the techie asked?

                “Probably. I’m sure she has a plan for that,” Dean sighed.

                “Awww, you sound jealous,” she teased.

                “I’m not,” Dean countered.

                “You aaaarrrreeee,” Charlie sang.

                “Am. Not,” he punctuated.

                “This is cute,” the girl snickered over the phone.

                “I will hang up on you,” he warned.

                “Whatever. I’ll make sure everything is set up for you. I only have one spare room. And my couch isn’t exactly huge. Could you and Sam share a bed and can Stevie take the couch? Or will you all just get a hotel room? Which, I’ve pointed out, will be expensive given the area of the city I live in. Even the flea bag motels are upwards of $125 a night,” she reminded.

                “Stevie is small. I’m sure she will be fine with the couch. Sam and I have shared a bed before, so that’s not an issue. The angels are going to be elsewhere I imagine. Gabe mentioned something about checking out where Dymphna is being held. There are demons involved, per usual,” he explained.

                “There’s always demons,” she huffed and he could hear her shuffling things around, “I’m excited to see you guys. It’s been too long. Lo is going to be passing through. Want me to invite her along for our saint extraction?”

                “Yea. We can always use more hands,” Dean looked down the hall and saw Stevie on the phone with Cas hovering next to her, a pensive look on her face. He bordered on nervous when Dean watched him longer, he was chewing his bottom lip and Stevie seemed to be feeding him information, “I gotta go. Seems like Stevie is doing something to make Cas uncomfortable.”

                “Who knew that was even possible,” Charlie laughed, “I’ll see you tomorrow, man.” She hung up and Dean wandered down the hall to see Stevie putting the phone in her pocket. Sam and Kevin were at a nearby table organizing books into a bag and stacking things that would go on the journey with them.

                “Charlie says she will have the place ready for us when we get there. It’ll be a 10 hour drive and it won’t be too bad,” Dean announced as he entered the room.

                “Great. That’s an easy day,” Sam shrugged.

                “Jo will join us at some point. I guess she’s passing through and Charlie is going to invite her on,” Dean informed.

                “Ambrose is going to meet up with us too. He said he will call when he gets there,” Stevie hummed.

                “Another saint joining our rescue mission?” Dean cocked a brow.

                “Yes. I know Castiel will be pleased to see him again,” Stevie grinned.

                “I have missed him. We used to watch the bees together. And I would bring him honey when I came to earth. I feel foolish for not knowing he was here,” Castiel frowned.

                “You need to stop feeling guilty. None of you knew where we were. How would you look for us?” she put her hands on her hips and gave him a pointed look.

                “She’s right,” Sam agreed.

                “Tell us about this other saint. I didn’t learn much about many of you guys since I didn’t think many of you were actually real,” Dean sat down on the couch.

                “Ambrose is the patron saint of Milan, bees, bee keepers, and a few other things. Like myself, his story has been warped by the church and time. There are texts that claim he disliked jews and pagans, which is not true. He has never held any ill will towards any groups of people. He is exceedingly selfless and generous and is one of my dearest friends. He’s been in New York for some time, working in a soup kitchen. He set up a garden for growing fresh produce for the kitchen, but he cannot attend to it himself. The blossoms die and bees won’t go near the plants. That he finds particularly bothersome. Things always die around him, even people who are in poor health. So he cannot work directly with those who are ill or in need of certain times of help. Out of necessity he avoids people almost altogether in order to prevent death at his hands. He cleans and preps food and stays out of sight otherwise. He is very solitary and sad,” she replied mournfully.

                “I would like for him to spend time with us after we procure Dymphna,” Castiel added.

                “Of course you would,” Stevie smirked.

                “What?” Dean stared.

                “Oh, Castiel and Ambrose only pinned after one another for centuries. As soon as I told him that Castiel was with me and we were going to rescue Dymphna he was quick to join our team. Plus, we missed each other anyway,” she flicked Castiel’s hair.

                “We did not pine,” Castiel grumbled.

                “You did,” she pressed.

                “This is gonna be good,” Dean laughed.

                “I concur,” Stevie yawned, “I need sleep.”

                “Do you need to feed or whatever?” Kevin chirped.

                “Not right now. I should be alright for another 2 days. I think. But I should probably get a buzz before going for Dymphna, just in case. We can just hit up some dive bar and I’ll lure some sap into a corner or something,” she presented and made her way towards her bedroom. She glanced back at Dean before closing the door.

                “Where is the other angel?” Dean looked to his brother.

                “He is investigating some things, apparently. He was vague as usual. He mentioned tracking down more saints and finding ways to reverse the various curses they’re under. With Dymphna we mostly just need to rescue her. Not being able to lie isn’t an immediate threat as long as she’s with us. But fixing the issue Stevie has is a top priority. And from what she said about Ambrose we should look into that as well. God knows what other terrible fates some of the saints have been dealing with,” Sam offered.

                “I agree. We need to figure out how the demons did this, who orchestrated it, and how to reverse it. It will take time. I am saddened that we will not be able to save them all,” Castiel deflated.

                “We do what we can, Cas,” Dean soothed and everyone went back to gathering supplies. Dean was actually looking forward to having something to do. He was beginning to get more restless and it was resulting in that itch under his skin. The mark sort of echoes in his head and he felt a small drive to tear apart at flesh and feel life drain out of someone at his hands. He had gotten good at pushing those urges down but being stuck in one place with only walls and how own thoughts to distract him made it harder to keep his cool. He finished gathering supplies and decided to go to bed.

 

 

                It was 3am when he heard his door creak open. He immediately sat up in bed and grabbed the knife under his pillow. He saw Stevie standing in his door, her hair almost covering her face, eyes wet and red, her lip trembling slightly. She was breathing fast and was gripping the doorknob so tight her knuckles were white. She looked frightened and skittish.

                “What’s wrong?” Dean asked.

                “Really – _really_ – bad nightmares. Can I be in here for a little bit?” she whispered. He thought for a moment about just saying ‘no’ and sending her away but really couldn’t find it in himself to just dismiss her. He sagged and motioned for her to come into the room and he pulled his blanket to the aside on the bed so she could slide in. She gingerly sat on the bed and tucked her hair behind her ears. She tugged on her long sleeves and wiped at her eyes. She was wearing a dark blue sweater and small, black shorts. The sweater was large and clearly a man’s sweater the way it hung on her frame.

                “Demon nightmares?” he began, watching her pull the blanket up to her chest.

                “Human, actually. Demons might have tortured me but the torture I was given by humans was more terrifying,” she sniffed.

                “Really?” he perplexed.

                “Yes. You expect it from demons. You know it’s in their nature and you know it’s coming. Not with humans, though. I didn’t think that I’d be dragged through the streets by my hair when I was only 16 because I wouldn’t marry a man. They whipped me, cut me open, shaved my hair, and a slew of other things. One man tried to skin my back. He had been my father’s business partner. Humans are scarier than demons,” she recalled and stifled a sob.

                “I can’t say I entirely disagree with you. The world ain’t pretty,” he breathed out as she settled onto the pillow and faced him, “Why did my room seem like the place to have a feelings session?”

                “Oh, I wasn’t expecting any sort of sentimental conversation where you rub my back and dress my emotional wounds. I simply thought I would feel safe in here and sleep better,” she barely smiled.

                “I can handle that. You’ll fall asleep soon enough. Don’t kick me though, because I will kick you back and you’ll end up on the floor,” he warned and laid back down.

                “Thank you,” she said quietly. He relaxed and listened to her breathing as he slowly fell back asleep. As they slept they drifted closer until she pressed to Dean’s chest and his arms were wrapped around her body and her face tucked below his chin. He slowly woke up and tightened his arms around the body against him before he tensed and remembered going to be alone. He glanced down at the bright blonde hair and slowly recalled the incident early in the morning when she tearfully sought out his bed and the safety of his room. He relaxed and trailed his hands down her back. One hand stopped and remained on the swell of her ass as the other remained on the small of her back. He felt her stir and bury her face against his neck and he smiled. She smelled like oranges and her hair was like silk against his hands. Apparently she had never closed the door when she came to bed hours before as a disgruntled looking Gabriel was standing in the doorway with a half-hearted glare on his face. She let out a deep breath and turned, slowly waking up. She pushed out her arms and then seemed to realize the body behind hers and sat up.

                “Don’t you two look cozy,” Gabriel sneered.

                “You’re being creepy,” she stared.

                “I’m doing my job,” he sassed.

                “Watching me sleep is definitely not your job,” she groaned and pushed the blanket off her body.

                “Why are you in here anyway?” Gabriel asked.

                “I had nightmares and I felt safe in here. Besides, fellow victims of torture make great bedfellows,” she teased.

                “I feel like you could just go give Sammy a blow job or something if you’re having trouble finding something to do,” Dean grumbled as he pulled on a shirt and popped his back.

                “Already done, Dean-o. He was very appreciative,” Gabriel winked and left the door way and headed towards the kitchen.

                “He’s insufferable,” Stevie fell back on the bed. Dean laughed and nodded. She had spent far more time with him than Dean had so she would know.

                “We leave in about an hour. Do you need anything to get ready?” Dean wondered.

                “No. I am all packed, not that I have much any way. Just a book to read on the drive, some clothes, and other toiletries. I travel light,” she shrugged.

                “Light is best,” he stood and watched her lying on the bed with her eyes closed, “Did you manage to sleep well? You are a cuddle sneak.”

                “You cuddled me first,” she laughed, “And yes. I did sleep well. Thank you.” She looked at him warmly and twirled her hair in her fingers. Dean smiled back before looking away and tossing a book at her.

                “If you haven’t read this before you might like it. I didn’t think I would like it but Sam read it for some college class and I borrowed it on a long drive,” he explained. She examined the text; _A Personal Matter_ by Kenzaburo Oe. She hadn’t heard of this author before and gleefully accepted the book.

                “I suppose I should go get dressed. Thank you for this,” she held the book.

                “You can always get me if you have nightmares,” he offered quietly before she left the room. She stopped and nodded before leaving.

 

 

                They had been on the road, Dean, Sam, and Stevie, for about 3 hours before they made a stop for gas. Castiel and Gabriel agreed to meet them there after both had looked over where Dymphna was being held. They had checked in that the facility seemed to be covered in sigils and wards as well as a few demons working as staff. Neither angel would be able to enter the building. Dean was a bit worried about it, but they had certainly handled worse. Stevie was definitely not going to go into the building alone. Stevie appeared to be frowning deeply as they took turns at the gas station using the restroom.

                “Why so glum?” Dean paused.

                “That book is so melancholy I might as well have read _Jude the Obscure_. I feel positively like rubbish and I want to curl up in bed and feel sorry,” she sighed.

                “It made you that upset” Dean gaped.

                “Of course it did! I’m not even to the conclusion yet but I am utterly filled with foreboding. I will need to lift my spirits with something more good-natured. And you’re going to buy me candy,” she pressed.

                “I am?” he laughed.

                “You are,” she hummed and he followed her down the sweets aisle. She gathered gummy bears and twix bars before grabbing 2 coffee drinks and thrusting them into his arms with a grin. He grabbed some beef jerky and didn’t fight her on all the snacks she kept piling on the counter. She was flipping through magazines near the door when two older men walked in. One was rugged and worn; his beard salt and pepper with tough hands. The other was younger and more new. He was clean shaved and had more styled hair. Both kept looking at Stevie before looking at each other. Dean didn’t like the looks they kept giving her. The younger man approached her has Dean handed money to the clerk. She had an annoyed look on her face as she tried to ignore whatever the man was asking her. He took another step closer and her eyes became dark and focused. Dean finally stood at her side and immediately hooked her arm around her waist, pulling him right to her chest.

                “Ready to go, sweetheart?” he asked as he looked up at the interloper.

                “Yes. I am,” she drawled and exited the gas station with Dean. He kept his hands on her and only let go when they reached the car. Sam was giving them a perplexed look and climbed into the passenger seat.

                “You realize I could have handled that man myself,” Stevie complained as she buckled in.

                “Maybe. But he seemed fairly determined. Invading your personal bubble and everything,” Dean huffed, “What was he asking you?”

                “He was asking if I needed a ride and that he was more than happy to give it. I told him I was with people and he said he would give me better company. Again, I told him no but he persisted. He went on to say that whoever I was with couldn’t possibly give me what I needed. Then you stepped in and we left. It’s not the first time something like that has happened and it won’t be the last,” she went on.

                “Sucks, man. How do you not just lash out every time?” Sam turned around. Dean was already driving them back on the highway.

                “Because that would use up an awful lot of time and energy I don’t want to waste,” she offered.

                “What do you have to defend yourself?” Sam asked.

                “Pepper spray, a knife, and the ability to just drain them if I need to. I try not to because I don’t want any of their thoughts in my head or their blood on my hands. Besides, any jolt they give me will be short lived. Good men last longer than bad ones,” she lamented.

                “Hopefully it won’t be a problem later. Gabe is working hard to fix it,” Sam smiled.

                “I suppose that’s something to look forward to,” she leaned against the window and watched the landscape as they drove. Dean kept looking at her through the rearview and side mirrors. She was pensive and lovely. Her brows were furrowed and he wanted to smooth them out with his thumb.

 

                Nearly 7 hours later, the sun setting behind them, they pulled up to a building in Chicago. It was an older, brick structure with a great deal of character. Stevie was immediately smitten with it and beamed at the architecture. Dean pressed the buzzer and heard an excited squeal from Charlie through the intercom as she buzzed them up. They walked the 4 stories and knocked on her door. As soon as it opened she flung herself at the brothers.

                “I missed you guys so much!” she announced.

                “We missed you too,” they replied, their voices muffled by her arms. When she let go and stepped back she finally looked at Stevie.

                “Oh. Hi. You are not what I was expecting. For some reason,” Charlie waved.

                “Did you think I would look more menacing?” Stevie chuckled.

                “No. I thought you would look more like other succubae I’ve met. They were a little bit more…vibrant and attention-grabbing. You’re sort of mousey. Not that it’s a bad thing. You’re very pretty. I’m rambling. Sorry. It’s nice to meet you,” Charlie stumbled.

                “No offense taken. I’m not exactly traditional in terms of what I am,” Stevie shrugged.

                “I’ll say. The last I met was about 6’1” with huge breasts and these bright, red lips. She was like a human peacock,” Charlie invited them all in as she spoke. They set their bags near the kitchen and pulled off their coats. It was December and bitterly cold. The closer they got to the great lakes the cooler it got. Dean kept Stevie close to his body their entire walk to Charlie’s building.

                “So, welcome to the windy city. It’s cold as balls outside and I’m glad you guys made it here ok. I did all the hacking business into the hospital’s system. I have Stevie listed as Dymphna’s sister Agnes and that she has a scheduled visit in the afternoon at 2. Dean is listed as an approved visitor as well, Agnes’ fiancé. I figured it was the best way to get you both in. Gabriel described Dymphna to me and Stevie could easily pass as a sibling. The angels popped in earlier before you got here. Castiel was all pouty, by the way,” Charlie dribbled and tugged on Sam’s sleeve to guide him towards the rest of her apartment and the other two followed, “This room is the guest bed. You and Dean can bunker down here. For Stevie I collected my best blankets and pillows to make the couch as luxurious as possible. Good thing you’re tiny.”

                “Thank you, so much. You have no idea how much I appreciate the help,” Stevie bowed. She kept running her hands up and down her arms. She also looked weak. Dean stepped behind her and put his large hands on her arms and moved them in kind to warm her up. She closed her eyes and leaned back against him.

                “Are you ok?” he asked her quietly.

                “No. I’m not sure why, but I am awfully drained. I need to get a jolt,” she winced, “This hasn’t really happened before. Maybe it’s the cold or travel.”

                “Do you need to, like, feed or whatever?” Carlie wondered.

                “Yea. Know a bar or club nearby where I can get my fix?” Stevie looked up.

                “I do. There one just 2 blocks down that isn’t too bad. But why can’t you just feed from Dean or something? Haven’t you already done that anyway?” she red head pressed.

                “I have. But it’s a bit of a privacy invasion, plus it would drain him too. It’s easier with a stranger,” she explained. Charlie seemed to accept it and nod. Sam sat down in a chair and shot off a message to Gabriel.

                “When will Jo be getting here?” Sam chirped.

                “Around 9 or 10am. She promised amazing donuts,” the hacker exclaimed, “So, shall we set off for the club full of gross men?”

                “Hey,” Dean mocked offense.

                “Prove you’re not gross,” Stevie teased and Dean squeezed her arms before letting go. She asked Charlie where the bathroom was and brought a small bag with her to change. Dean looked at Sam who was giving him a smirk and pointed look.

                “What?” Dean frowned.

                “You are practically doting on her,” his brother laughed.

                “Am not,” Dean argued.

                “I’m not saying it’s bad, Dean. It’s nice. You’re worried about her and are taking of her. I haven’t seen you like that with anyone in a long time. Not since you got the mark,” Sam leaned forward on his elbows, “How has the mark been? Have you had any urges?”

                “Not bad. Sort of like a mosquito bite. It’s an annoyance but not overwhelming. Normally it’d be worse by now but it’s been tolerable,” Dean bemoaned. Charlie was standing by the bathroom door where Stevie seemed to be moving about and they both stepped into the living room. Stevie was wearing a tight, black shirt over jeggings and wedge boots. Her lips were painted a soft pink and her hair was pulled back. Charlie had changed into a deep red sweater and black pants. The girls linked arms. Stevie looked tired and appeared to be leaning on Charlie. Dean stood and smiled at them both.

                “So, you boys comin’?” Charlie beamed.

                “Yea. Gabe will have my ass if I don’t watch her,” Dean pulled his jacket on while Sam remained fixed in the chair.

                “I’m gonna stay here. Seriously beat. But I’ll go if you think I’m needed,” Sam yawned.

                “You can hang, giant man. I can’t imagine it’ll take long for miss thing to nab someone reasonable and get what she needs. Have you seen what those heels are doing for her butt?” Charlie giggled.     

                “The angels will get mad if we look at her butt,” Sam laughed.

                “Whatevs,” Charlie smirked and she led the pair out of the building and towards the bar. It was dark and loud in the city. Dean still wasn’t used to it, preferring quiet and open spaces. Charlie and Stevie were talking with each other. He barely listened, tuning in and out as Charlie asked Stevie about her life and being a samodiva. Dean felt over-stimulated by everything around him and he could feel the mark begin to faintly burn. He fisted the fabric of the sleeve in his hand and took a deep breath. When he looked back at the girls Stevie was looking at him with concern on her face.

                “We’re here,” Charlie announced and opened the door for them. The bar was dark and _loud_. Louder than Dean thought it should be. He couldn’t imagine how words could possibly be exchanged in this sort of environment. Charlie grabbed some stools near the bar and sat down while Stevie made a beeline for the jukebox on the wall. Gabriel and Kevin had explained what they could about samodivas and apparently they often had musical preferences when it came to luring or dancing. He expected Stevie had at least a touch of that, he had gathered as much at the strip club when the other girl mentioned Stevie’s musical tastes. He watched her and waited before joining Charlie at the bar. She removed her coat and placed it on the back of her chair and faced the bar. Charlie and Dean sat on either side of her. He ordered a beer and tried to ignore the irritation on his arm.

                The music changed and Stevie seemed to relax, lightly swaying her body to the beat. She kept closing her eyes and bobbing her head, both him and Charlie watched her, clearly being effected by her abilities. Stevie hopped of the stool and walked into the dancing bodies nearby. She moved her own body to the beat with a taller woman in front of her. They locked eyes and Stevie touched her arm. A man came up behind her and placed both his hands on her hips. She let herself be sandwiched between them as the man pressed his body to her back and the woman was looking down at Stevie, also very close. Dean’s arm burned. The man put his lips on the back of Stevie’s neck and he could see her skin lighten and faintly glow, like it had before. His hands snaked more around her middle and settled on her belt as he ground against her ass. The woman in front of her held Stevie’s hand and let it graze her cheek. Dean growled and Charlie flinched.

                “Dean?” she tested. Dean just grumbled and his arm felt like it was on fire.

                “Don’t like it,” he hissed.

                “Dean…” Charlie had stepped off her stool and was looking at Dean. She could see his entire body was tense and he seemed to grip the knife on his belt, “Dean, is it the mark? Do we need to go?” Dean was ignoring her and zeroing on the man who had practically plastered himself to Stevie. He wanted to rip that man apart. The mark was demanding it. Dean prowled over to the man and grabbed him by the throat. The strobe light started flashing and the music was so loud no one could hear the man cry out. Stevie whipped around and watched Dean raise the man off the ground by the neck. The unknown man was thrashing and clawing at his throat and Dean’s hands.

                “Dean!” Stevie yelled, but the music was so loud. Stevie didn’t know what to do. The lights were disorienting and she grabbed Dean’s hand to pull him away, then she felt it. Her entire body surged with energy. She felt Dean drop the man while turning to grab her. She held his hand and he pushed her through the crowd to the back wall. His jaw was locked and she gasped when he pinned her arm to the wall. She brought her free hand to his cheek and felt another surge. Dean buckled and let go as he let out a deep breath. He relaxed against her body and she sagged as he relinquished her arm. She didn’t know what happened but her body was humming. Charlie had been watching them and slowly urged them both out of the bar. Once they were on the cold street they could think.

                “What the fuck just happened in there?” Charlie demanded.

                “I – I don’t know. I feel…I feel…I have never felt this strong before,” Stevie stuttered.

                “Dean?” Charlie was looking at the man. His eyes were fixed on the ground as he seemed to be replaying what transpired in his head, “You were going to kill that guy. But you stopped. What happened?”

                “She touched me and it – it pulled away? Like the mark gave up. I don’t know how to explain it. But I don’t feel like I need to, ya know, anymore. Not right now,” Dean steadied himself and finally looked at Stevie.

                “That is…that’s weird. We gotta get back. Sam will figure it out,” Charlie started walking back but then stopped, “Wait. Stevie, did you feed or whatever?”

                “Yea. I got some from that guy but I took a lot. And I mean _a lot_ , from Dean,” she looked up at him through her lashes and he swallowed roughly.

                “Are you good then?” Charlie cocked her head.

                “Yea. Let’s go,” Stevie nodded and they made the way back to her apartment. The streets were quieter now. Or at least Dean thought so. There was a calmness in his chest and he didn’t feel stifled. They were already at Charlie’s door before he realized and saw that he had his arm around Stevie the entire walk. She was warm. Much warmer than she had been before.   


	6. Chapter 6

                “Just so I’m clear; Stevie was dancing with someone to get a jolt and then Dean’s mark went off. He tried to kill the guy Stevie was dancing with but she touched him and the urge stopped. Am I missing anything?” Sam rattled off.

                “No. that’s about it,” Dean yawned.

                “And you both feel fine?” Same pressed.

                “Yea. We do. When the angels get here in the morning we can have them give us a once over or whatever. But seriously, I feel fine. The mark doesn’t even so much as tingle right now,” Dean sighed.

                “And I feel like I could go for days if I wanted,” Stevie added.

                “This is actually pretty fascinating,” Sam’s wheels were turning and he pulled out his laptop and started typing wildly. His face took on at least 7 different emotions before he looked back up at the trio in the room, “Ok…so…until now there’s obviously only been one person with the mark. So we have no idea if this is something to do with the mark. But I have a theory. There’s at least a handful of accounts where samodivas, and some run of the mill succubae and incubae can sort of short-circuit other abilities with touch. There’s one account I have that shows a succubus cancelled out a vampire bite. And another where one managed to circumvent a shifter changing. So, I think, she cancelled the mark out.”

                “Wow. That’s sort of super cool,” Charlie added.

                “It is…” Dean trailed off. Stevie had somewhat disengaged from the conversation. He watched her toy with the hem of her sleeve and sigh quietly.

                “Would you mind if I took a shower?” Stevie looked the Charlie.

                “Of course. There’s a linen closet in the master bathroom off my bedroom. You can use that one. I have amazing shower tabs. You should try them,” Charlie beamed.

                “Shower tabs?” Stevie raised and brow and glanced at the brothers. Dean just shrugged and Sam chuckled.

                “I’ll show you,” Charlie tugged on her arm and the boys watched them leave. Sam called Gabriel and wandered into the guest room with a shy smile on his face before shutting the door. Dean rolled his eyes because he knew exactly what was going on behind that door. Gabriel took great pleasure, all puns intended, in teasing Sam over the phone to the point of them engaging in somewhat vigorous phone sex. Dean accidentally walked in on one such session in a hotel room a year back. Why Gabe didn’t just mojo himself to Sam or whisk them elsewhere was beyond him. Though, he assumed it was just the game the angel liked. He ended up settling into a deep chair in the living room and looked over some more of the papers Sam had printed about Dymphna as well as the things Stevie had written out. Dymphna, it turns out, had a story that did not differ greatly from Stevie’s. Her father was a pagan king in Ireland whose wife died. He wanted another wife but would only marry someone as beautiful as his recently deceased one. They didn’t find anyone for awhile until Dymphna hit puberty. Her father told her she was as beautiful as her mother and apparently wanted to take _her_ as his wife. Dymphna, obviously disgusted by this, ran away along with a priest named Father Gerebernus. They ended up in what would be Belgium today and took refuge there. Together, along with a local church, built a hospice for the poor and cared for the sick. She had vowed herself to Christ and had taken a vow of chastity. She essentially became a nun and became well-loved in the town they were in. Coins were made with her face on them. This resulted in her father discovering her, though. He realized where she was because of the coins and sent men to bring her home. They did capture her and Father Gerebernus and brought them back to Ireland. He immediately killed the father and demanded his daughter submit to him. She refused and he killed her in a fit of rage. She was 15 when she did. Later her and the father who helped her were canonized by the church.

                “God damn, can people stop trying to marry girls against their will?” Dean mumbled to himself.

                “Brushing up?” Stevie asked as she came into the living room. Her hair was still damp and pulled back into a loose bun. She was wearing another one of his shirts and dark leggings.

                “Yea. Wanted a better idea of what we were walking into. So she’s a teenager too?” he grimaced.

                “Yes. Sort of. She was 17 when she died. They were off by a few years when they canonized her. The younger the more scandalous. Though, hers was wrought with scandal without making her younger,” Stevie informed. She moved to sit on the windowsill and pulled her knees to her chest. The city lights illuminated her face. She looked so young and pure. He couldn’t even imagine meeting her in a strip club like her had. There was something almost angelic about her appearance; the faint glow around her.

                “How old are you?” Dean asked. Stevie; cocked and brow and smirked at him.

                “Do you want a solid number?” she laughed, “I was born in 291. I can do some quick math if you’d like. I did stop counting a long time ago.”

                “No. I mean – when you were reborn or whatever you came back as you were before you died. So, 16. But its been awhile and I’m sure you’ve aged. So how old are you?” he confirmed.

                “Oh. Well, I suppose I’d be about 19 then,” she tilted her head.

                “I got a lap dance from a teenage?” Dean scrubbed his hand down his face. Stevie just laughed at him and relaxed against the cool glass of the window. She stilled and twitched for a minute and re-settled herself. He knew she probably got glimpses of something he had done, something that no one needed to see.

                “So, both you and Dymphna took vows of chastity and joined the church at young ages. Were you both dead set on just spending all your time helping those less fortunate?” Dean redirected.

                “Not really. We were young and didn’t have a lot of choices. I had thought of getting married and having a family. I thought I might have been a good mother. I know Dymphna wanted to get married and have children. She wanted a gaggle of them. I would’ve been content with one,” she closed her eyes and breathed slowly, “We weren’t really given a chance though. I suppose maybe I could try again now. But…the complication makes it impossible. What I would like is to open a bakery or just work in one. I think I’d be happy doing that. Living in a small town somewhere, keeping to myself mostly, spending all my time baking and reading. I actually have a silly fantasy of building a farmhouse somewhere with a wraparound greenhouse. I could grow all my own herbs and fruit. If I manage to undo this samodiva thing I might like to have a husband. He would take care of the house and work on whatever it is he likes, I’d bake and garden. Maybe I’d even have a child. Who knows. It seems a bit silly to dream about at the moment.” Dean listened and he could practically see it in his head. It sounded perfect, at least to him. Simple was good. Quiet was good.

                “That doesn’t sound too bad to me. I had something like that. For a short time. I was with this woman named Lisa. She had a son named Ben, not mine. But I loved him like he was. We were together for a long time. But…demons, danger, all of that – it took me away. It wasn’t safe for them and never would be. So I left. I had Cas zap me from their memories so they could go on without worrying or thinking about me,” Dean recalled. It still hurt a little to remember leaving them. He didn’t love Lisa romantically anymore. He had gotten over her, but he missed them and missed the way life was for a short time. But it wasn’t something he could keep.

                “I’m sorry for that,” she spoke quietly.

                “Guess we just have to hope demons go out of business before we get things like that,” Dean deflated and settled deeper into the chair. Stevie moved from the window and sat almost in his lap, “You get awfully comfortable awfully fast.”

                “I’m a very tactile person and I don’t have a lot of chances to go that without great risk. I’ll stop if you want,” her head was on his chest and she was heavy with sleep.

                “No…its fine,” he let her get comfortable and gently ran his fingers down her back.

                “You’re soft,” she commented.

                “Are you saying I’m getting fat? Because if I am it is your fault for making so much pie,” he grinned.

                “No,” she playfully punched him, “You just feel safe. I like it.” She yawned and nuzzled his chest. Dean let it happen. He wasn’t going to pretend that he didn’t like the attention or the gentle touches. He was so used to brutality. He felt her falling asleep and he listened to her breathing, in and out, like a tide. She smelled like citrus again. He thought about orange and lemon trees before falling asleep.

 

                _Dean was bent over and engine block when he heard quiet footsteps that came up quickly behind him._

_“Grrrr,” he heard from a child wrapping around his legs._

_“Whoa, hey there, champ. Gotta be careful when I have tools in my hands,” he placed his wrench down and crouched to look the little boy in the eyes. He had bright green eyes and light, blonde hair._

_“You’ve been out here for hooours,” the boy groaned._

_“Have not,” Dean laughed._

_“Have so. Mommy said. She said if you don’t come inside soon you won’t get any pie. And she made your favorite,” he whispered._

_“Guess she’s got me over a barrel then,” Dean scooped up the little boy and placed him on his shoulders. Dean was wearing a grease and oil stained, white t-shirt. Well, not so white now, with blue jeans and old boots. When they stepped outside the sun was bright as it set behind them. There wasn’t much around them, just the house, their garage, one house to the south of them about an eighth of a mile and another to the north another quarter mile. There was a row of trees they had planted to the east, mostly apples and pears. There was a greenhouse along the entire east side of the house and he could see movement through the window panes. The pair walked into the greenhouse to see a blonde woman bent over some raised beds. She turned and Dean smiled. Stevie was wearing a dark, blue sundress with some dirt on her hands. She wiped her hands off on her apron and smiled in return. The boy on his shoulders wiggled to get down and Dean helped him before stepping forward to Stevie._

_“Nearly done?” she asked, looking up at him with rosy cheeks. They were the kind of pink you get when you stay out in the sun too long. She had freckles on her nose too._

_“Pretty much, but I suppose I can finish it tomorrow,” he put both his hands on her waist and bent down to kiss her on the tip of her nose._

_“Can we have dinner now,” the boy tugged on her dress._

_“Of course,” she sighed happily and moved towards the door. But a loud noise stopped them all. It was a screech and the ground shook around them. The sky got dark and when they looked out to the trees they saw 4 men with black eyes glaring at the house._

_“Simon, get inside,” Stevie rushed. The boy immediately complied and sprinted into the house. Stevie pulled a knife from her dress and Dean grabbed a gun from his ankle._

_“Get inside, Stevie,” Dean grunted._

_“No. We finish it together. Why bother training me if you aren’t going to let me help? They can’t move past the trees anyway. I want them gone,” she was firm. Dean grunted and relented as she followed him out to the yard. They didn’t make it more than 5 steps before the lawn exploded in fire._

_“Dean!” Stevie shouted as she was trapped by a wall of flames near the house. He watched fire climbed up the door and across the porch. Stevie was screaming and he could hear Simon yelling. Someone hit him hard in the back of the head and he jolted._

 

                Dean was thrust out of sleep by his nightmare. His confusing, and horrifying nightmare. His heart was hammering in his chest and he realized he was still asleep in the chair with Stevie in his lap. There was a blanket thrown over them and the lights were off. Charlie must’ve done that before she went to sleep. He then realized Stevie was whimpering. He wrapped his arms around her and shushed her as her body relaxed. She pressed her face harder against his chest and seemed to calm down. He wasn’t going to think about that dream. He was going to try and fall back asleep while focusing on the rescue mission tomorrow.

 

 

                Charlie was brewing coffee in the kitchen when Sam sleepily wandered in. His hair was a mess and he was wearing a grey t-shirt and blue sleeping pants. Charlie was wearing a shirt with Squirtle on it and green sleeping pants. She held out a mug to him and he accepted it with a tired smile.

                “Do you know where Dean is? I don’t think he came to bed last night. Not that I’m complaining, he hogs blankets,” Sam poured a cup.

                “Oh, he’s cozied up with the cute blonde in the living room,” she pointed through the doorway and both craned their necks to see. Stevie was completely curled up on Dean’s lap and his arms were draped around her with his head atop hers.

                “They’re like cats. It’s a little funny,” Sam sighed, “He’s being fairly protective of her.”

                “Who wouldn’t? I read up on both her and Dymphna. They’ve been through an otherworldly amount of nonsense just because they happen to be pretty. Boys,” Charlie huffed. She pulled a buzzing phone from her pocket and checked her messages, “Jo just got here. I told her not to knock so as to not awake our sleeping beauties. Get the door for me while I finish brewing more coffee?” Sam nodded and padded quietly through the dining area and living room to the front door. He quietly opened it and held up a finger to his lips when he saw Jo. She beamed and stepped into the room with two bags in each hand. Sam pointed to the sleeping couple and Jo’s smile fell right away. Her face tightened and she forced a friendly expression and moved to the kitchen where Charlie was standing.

                “So happy to see you,” Charlie greeted and hugged Jo as soon as she was within arm’s length.

                “I’m glad to see you guys too. It’s been a long time,” Jo replied before looking back at the living room, “What’s going on in there?”

                “Oh, Dean and Stevie?” Sam chuckled, “Dean keeps dad-ing her. Kind of.”

                “It’s not a succubus thing? I was under the impression she was a succubus,” Jo pressed.

                “Samodiva, and she is. But what’s going on in there has nothing to do with that. Dean makes her feel safe and she makes him feel a little more stable. Ever since the mark he’s been on edge. Last night he got all aggressive and violent because of the mark and she sort of…short-circuited him. He calmed down and they came home,” Sam noted.

                “Huh,” Jo kept looking at them. The sun was filtering around them and it looked like a picture from a storybook. She felt sadness settle in her chest on top of some festering jealousy. She hadn’t seen Dean in a while and she was hoping to try and get close to him during this mission. She didn’t think an opportunity would arise with a samodiva in tow.   

                “Do you think she is your own, personal teddy bear?” the trip heard Gabe’s voice from the other rom. All walked out to the living room to find Dean waking up and Stevie yawning into the blanket while Gabriel hovered next to them.

                “Hi, sweetie,” Gabriel beamed at Sam with a sucker popped in his mouth.

                “Why are you waking me up again?” Dean finally opened his eyes all the way to see everyone staring at them, “Why is everyone looking at me?”

                “Gabe is being creepy again,” Stevie mumbled and relaxed back against Dean. She looked up at the new face in the room and blinked for a second and then sat up, “You must be Jo. I’m Stevie.”

                “Hi,” she cocked her head and then raised an eyebrow at Dean.

                “Coffee?” Dean asked.

                “And donuts,” Charlie answered. Castiel appeared next to Gabriel and Charlie narrowed her eyes at them, “We need to talk about you guys popping in without warning.”

                “I apologize. I saw Gabriel and assumed it would be alright,” Castiel apologized.

                “It’s fine, man. Just, warn a girl when I’m alone,” Charlie went back into the kitchen and everyone followed. Dean and Stevie were slowly rose from the chair they slept in all night. Stevie finally looked up at him and blushed for a second before standing up to stretch her arms high over her head and pull her hair out of the bun. It fell in waves down her shoulders and it reminded Dean briefly of his dream. He followed her to the kitchen and they entered just in time to hear Charlie finishing explaining the previous night’s events to the angels.

                “Well, aren’t you a bucket of surprises?” Gabriel laughed. Stevie was pouring some coffee and pacing across the kitchen slowly.

                “She’s like a cute, little parasite,” Dean joked.

                “Hey,” Stevie pouted.

                “I said you were a cute one,” he stood and flicked the tip of her nose while she stole his seat at the table. Jo frowned as she watched their interaction while Sam seemed to find it extremely amusing. Stevie hummed and pulled out her phone.

                “Seems Ambrose is close. We should meet up with him soon,” she revealed as she looked up at Castiel.

                “I guess I should get ready then,” Dean sighed. Everyone started getting organized to meet up with a saint in park on the southside of Chicago. Because apparently that’s their life now.


End file.
